


Subnautica: Echoes

by LetterPressJess



Category: Subnautica (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23446486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetterPressJess/pseuds/LetterPressJess
Summary: When Lyra Robinson receives a message from her missing mother, her determination to find her leads her to the tumultuous Planet 4546B her father fought so hard to escape, but destiny awaits. While fighting against the deadly climate and the terrifying creatures determined to bring them down, Lyra and her team must band together to face their fears, or confront a future broken.
Kudos: 6





	1. Capture

‘What is a wave without the ocean? A beginning without an end? They are different, but they go together. Now you go among the stars, and I fall among the sand. We are different. But we go… together.’ 

* * *

The golden glow shimmered, dark tail swishing. The little creature halted in a flourish of bubbles and the water roiled, the pockets on his abdomen pulsating periodically while he peered at the friendly face hovering inches from his own. 

“Hello, Poseidon. How are you doing today? Hungry?”

The Peeper chirped, trailing minuscule globules of air from his beak-like mouth as torn shreds of creepvine splattered across the surface of the water. He glided up to gobble them down, almost knocking against the glass of the tank to slurp the sodden leaves. 

“You were hungry, weren’t you?” Lyra muttered, snatching the pencil from behind her ear and the clipboard hanging on the side of the aquarium to jot down the fish’s current feed. “Did Pearson not give you your breakfast this morning?” She flicked through the previous day’s findings and huffed, waving at the tiny creature as he finished his feast. 

“You know he can’t wave back, right?” Ryley commented. He leaned against the worktop and nudged a beaker of something blue and bubbling, instantly straightening. The last thing he needed was to knock over something valuable again. 

Lyra stood to her full height and set the clipboard into its holder, poking the pencil behind her ear. “He also can’t understand me, but I still speak to him from time to time,” she replied, drifting around the counter and sliding into the nearest seat. The wheels swung round as she propelled herself to the computers. The Alterra triangle spun on its axis in gleaming white, hovering above the words ‘JUNO STATION: RESEARCH CENTRE’, until she wiggled her finger on the mouse pad. Readings and recordings replaced the company’s emblem, trickling across the screens as graphs altered and lines jolted with each segment of data transmitting through the apparatus. She concentrated on the top ones first, her bottle green eyes sinking down the torrent of information. “I think he likes it when I talk to him. He listens.”

Ryley grinned. “Are you sure he’s listening and not just waiting for his dinner?” Lyra swung around in her chair to frown at him and he raised his palms in surrender, snorting at her reaction as she returned to her work. “How’s the research going?”

“Slow. But with everything as it is at the moment, it’s bound to take a toll.” She peered back at her father, fingers poised over the keyboard. “Have we had any news from Vesper?”

“There’s nothing they can salvage yet,” Ryley reported. “Nobody wants to go near it until the geological department has conducted the surveys.”

“Can’t blame them. They last thing they need is to be digging that place out and for another load of snow to come crashing down on them. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. Alterra has a habit of leaving their crew for dead when disaster strikes. Unless there’s profit in it.” 

Ryley tensed and released again. She meant nothing by it. That time in his life had been tough on them both, and he wasn’t sure she’d ever forgive Alterra for the position they’d put him in. He’d have loved to have said times were different now, that Alterra had learned their lesson since the crash of the Aurora, but their greed and desire for more had only grown worse in the past few years. The more of the planet they cracked open, the more they craved. “You can always come to me if you need more stuff,” he told her, settling down in the seat beside her. “I’ll speak to the board. They’re keen to help the research department.” 

“I bet they are.” Lyra bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying something out of turn. The only reason they wanted to pump so much money into research was to determine what was valuable and what wasn’t. What they could drain. Ever since she’d heard about the landslide, her thoughts had allowed her to think of little else. They were still unsure of how many had survived, not that they cared for the lives lost. The expensive equipment buried beneath that mound of snow outweighed anything living. “Thanks, dad.” 

“Lyra. Look at me.” 

She heaved a forced breath and rounded to him, planting her hands in her lap to keep from typing again. 

“It means a lot to me you’re here, means even more that you’re offering your time and a considerable bulk of your wages to help me with the debt I faced when I-”

“A debt you never should have owed.”

“I know, little blossom.” Ryley took her hands to stop her from fidgeting and waited until she was facing him again before he proceeded. “But this is how Alterra works, and no matter what we may think, their technology helped me get back to you, and that is worth more than anything I owe.” 

Lyra slumped into her seat. She’d never forget the overwhelming relief that had coursed through her when her father had returned alive, and the gut-wrenching shock to learn of the debt Alterra had slapped him with. After everything he’d been through, all he’d endured, the first thing they wanted was money. 

Ryley checked the clock and rose from his seat, ruffling Lyra’s hair and chuckling when she swatted at his hand. “Better get going. I promised Jasper I’d see him before lunch.”

“Will you be back for dinner?” she asked, taming the flyaway wisps of her ponytail. 

“I hope to be, but there’s a big meeting this afternoon and it may overrun. Especially with the problems we’ve been having. I’m expecting another screaming match between Holloway and Avila, but hopefully they’ll keep it short this week.”

“I’ll put your dinner in the fridge if you’re late.”

“Thank you, little blossom.” He kissed her head and hurried from the lab, leaving her to the distant whir of the machinery and the churn of the computer fans as they fought to limit the heat radiating from the electronics. 

She often found herself alone in the lab. The other researchers bounced from one end of the station to the other, Alterra wasn’t exactly forgiving towards them, and as a junior analyst, they left her to handle the reports and ensure everything was as it should be, but she didn’t dislike her work. It provided her with some peace to learn, to grow, to immerse herself in the world her father had once had to rely on to survive. And now her mother.

“How are you after your lunch, Poseidon?” she said, approaching the aquariums in the centre of the room. “Are you not sleepy?” The fish blew bubbles as he glided through the water, back towards the wider edges of the trapezium-shaped container. She leaned down, pressing her cheek against her forearms as she observed. “What do you think I should do? What would you do if your mum was missing?” 

Poseidon shook his tail, swimming close and almost launching himself into the glass. When he’d first arrived, he’d spent weeks banging into the tank until he’d grown accustomed to the new dimensions. The pang of guilt she’d felt every time he’d collided with the aquarium bubbled in her stomach, and she wished she could take him home where he belonged. But he was the property of Alterra now. Any decisions regarding his well-being lay in their rapacious hands. 

Lyra clicked her tongue and crumpled back down by the monitors, taking her PDA from the slot on the wall. Flicking across her home screen, she brought up her inbox and tapped on her mother’s picture, reading through her last encrypted message: 

_ Hello, sweetheart, _

_ I wish you were here to see this. There are so many wonders this extraordinary planet has to offer. Maybe one day. As I type this, I am looking out of the window of an alien facility in a biome of lava. There’s a creature here breathing fire. It is beautiful. We found a containment this morning. We’re not sure what this place is yet or what the original owners used it for, but perhaps when I return, your father can shed some light on this. I swear he knows more about this planet than he’s letting on. There is something important here, I’m certain of it.  _

_ I miss you both so much, but we will be home soon.  _

_ Hugs and kisses, _

_ Mama.  _

“Lyra! Lyra!”

Lyra straightened up and wiped her face clean of tears, closing her inbox and thrusting her PDA back into the port. “I’m in here,” she called, smoothing her light blue lab coat. 

The elderly professor stumbled in in a rush, arms laden with files almost spilling their contents. Lyra rushed to aid him, holding the sheets of paper in place before he righted them in his grasp. 

Pearson stuck his hands into his pockets as she took the folders from him and peered over the top of his glasses at the Peeper darting around the aquarium. “How’s this one doing today?” 

“He’s lively as always. I’ve been talking to him.” 

“That must be why he’s lively. He’s trying to swim away.” The senior scientist chuckled to himself, examining the sea creature as he glided and wiggled to build his momentum. “Have you fed him?”

“Three leaves, as specified in his notes,” Lyra replied. 

Pearson traipsed over to the monitors, surveying the readings and stretching his back as he scrutinised each screen. “As long as there’s nothing out of the ordinary, I can return to the specimen lab. Some in there take incompetence to an entirely new level.”

He didn’t wait for Lyra to respond, but she was glad he didn’t stick around. The knot in her throat wouldn’t allow her a reprieve, and the tears fell before she could stop them. 

* * * 

“He cut right in front of me, the moron, and then blamed me for it. Even Captain Soren said he was in the wrong, but you know what Lance is like. He always has to be correct.” Cassidy bit into her sandwich with a frown, chewing and swallowing hard. “It was a nightmare. He’s hated me since the academy, and every time we have to run drills, he does the same shit to rile me.”

“I almost regret asking you how your morning was now,” Hunter jested. He picked at the fish on his plate to spear a few of the flakes onto his fork and dodged the wrapping and the scowl Cassidy threw at him. 

“How was your morning then? Perfect as always, doctor?”

“Hardly. There’s been more people panicking about the Kharaa bacterium. We had thirty-eight, all displaying no symptoms, and all, unsurprisingly, infection free. Still, has to be better than fossil man’s morning.” He aimed an impish glower at the smaller man seated opposite, sandy hair flopped to one side as he hunkered over his lunch in silence. “It must bore you cataloguing all that old crap all day.”

“For your information, my morning has been compelling,” Samuel retorted. “I enjoy cataloguing. Just yesterday, they brought in a Crashfish fossil, and I’ve been studying a rock with a tremendous amount of detailing. There was deliberate patterning, a butterfly shape to it, and violet marks.”

Hunter pretended to yawn and covered his mouth. “I’m right, it is boring.”

“Sounds like a Mesmer to me,” Lyra commented, hopping in to the discussion. 

Samuel perked up. “It’s possible,” he mused, ruminating on the idea. 

“The divers caught one a few weeks ago and delivered it to the lab. Caused a bit of trouble for the technicians as the junior diver who’d captured it grabbed it when it was sleeping and wasn’t aware of their ability to well and truly screw with your head. Nobody realised what it was until it was too late. They sent some of those affected your way, didn’t they, Hunter?”

“Tripping out of their mind? Nonsense spewing from their mouths? Couldn’t stand up straight?” 

Lyra nodded, curbing the urge to laugh at the misfortune of her colleagues, but having watched them stumble and babble about their deepest secrets, the compulsion was too amusing to suppress the snicker completely. “That’s them. Pearson thought they were drunk. I have never heard him shout like that before.”

“One asked me if I was his mother,” Hunter said, rolling his eyes, but his chest rocked as he chortled under his breath. He shoved his fork down onto his empty plate, gulping down the last of his lunch. “Another wanted me to fight him. This little pipsqueak of a man, looked at me”- He gestured up and down his physique and the muscle he proudly maintained- “and figured he could challenge me.” 

“You’ll be glad to know that we put the Mesmer in a tinted aquarium, so the mischievous little fella shouldn’t cause you any more problems,” Lyra assured him, twisting to Samuel. “I’ll send you the data when I get back to the lab. There isn’t a lot at this stage, we’re still trying to find out what we can, but it may make your end of the investigation a little easier.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Samuel smiled, momentarily locking onto Hunter’s hardened expression before plunging his gaze to his half-eaten lunch. 

“Have the board had any news on your mother?” Cassidy asked. 

Lyra hovered the fork by her mouth, tendrils of spiralled pasta hanging. She lowered the utensil and shook her head, conscious of the three sets of inquisitive eyes on her. They hadn’t mentioned her mother a lot, but she sensed they were just as anxious as she was to find out more. “I’ve heard nothing from them. It’s been months since she reported in and most of her expedition team have wound up dead, but with everything going on with Robin Goodall and the Vesper, the board have other priorities.”

“But she is one of our best explorers,” Cassidy said, perplexed that Alterra would freely let someone as experienced and enthusiastic as Astrid Robinson die. “Surely they’re out there searching for her?” The silence from the younger woman was all the answer she needed. 

“I got a delayed message from her,” Lyra all but whispered, abandoning the rest of her meal. “She sent it a few months ago.”

“What did it say?”

“She said she was in a facility. There was lava outside, a massive creature breathing fire, and some kind of containment. She suspected there might be something significant there, so I brought up the satellites to find where she was, but there’s nothing deeper than nine-hundred metres recorded and not a morsel matching the description. I don’t have clearance for the rest of the geographical data.” 

“I do.” Lyra swivelled so quickly Samuel almost bolted out of his seat, her dark ponytail swishing behind her and landing over her shoulder. “I have to know where every artefact came from and what their environments were like to catalogue them.” 

“So you could find out where this facility is?” 

“Possibly.” He shrugged, eyes darting between his three friends before they settled back on Lyra. “I can’t promise anything, but I can try.”

“I’ll send you the message so you have all the information.” She scrambled for her PDA, fingers flicking over the blue screen at velocity as she located her mother’s last memo and sent it over to him. “Thank you in advance. I know you’re busy.” 

“Nothing that I can’t put aside for a friend.” 

Hunter’s shoulder beeped a twinkling melody, and he angled his head to inspect the device fixed to the strap on his upper arm. “I’d better get going. I’ll catch you guys later.” He swung his legs around the bench, offering his friends a playful salute before he jogged towards the double doors of the cafeteria. 

“I’ve got to go too,” Samuel huffed, checking his watch and packing his PDA into his backpack. “If Glenn is the only one left cataloguing, we’ll be spending the next week organising his mess.” 

“I’ll come by in about half an hour,” Lyra called after him. 

Cassidy kicked back once he’d left and set her feet up on the vacant bench opposite her, her wiggling boots appearing beside Lyra. “That was a nice save. Hunter can be such an ass sometimes, especially to Samuel. Makes me wonder if we’d be friends with him now if we hadn’t grown up together.” 

“He’s just playing,” she reasoned, knowing that Hunter didn’t tease Samuel to be cruel. More than once at the academy he’d stuck up for him, praised his accomplishments and been there for him in his darkest moments to support him and lift his spirits. “It’s in his nature to joke about, he means nothing serious by it. Do you not remember science classes with Mr Thomson?”

Cassidy gasped and slapped the table, the memories of her teenage years floating from happy moment to hilarious incident as they swept back to her. “Didn’t he nearly blow the entire east block up?”

“Yes.”

“And when we were doing dissection, he put a dead frog on Candice Larsen’s head?”

Lyra nodded, chortling. 

“She shrieked so loud she almost shattered the windows.” Cassidy let out a booming laugh, attracting a few side glances from the quieter souls in the lunch room. She exhaled heavily, clutching her stomach and dropping her legs from the opposite bench to stop herself from toppling back. “Do you miss it? The academy?”

“Sometimes,” Lyra admitted, resting her elbow on the glistening white dining table, fingertips tapping a rhythm against her cheekbone. “I suppose, but we’re not those kids anymore. Besides, look at where we are now.” She gestured to the floor-to-ceiling windows covering the far wall where the marvels of space lay beyond the reinforced glass. Planet 4546B shone at them in a radiant blue, the Vesper hovering like a fly just outside the atmosphere. As arrogant and greedy Alterra was, she didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of that view. 

* * * 

Lyra peered into the glass casing, softly patting on the container to watch the bobbing cube within wobble and revolve on an invisible axis. The blue light transmitted a few hazy lines as the sphere in the centre of the artefact moved independently to the encompassing black mass. 

“That came in last week,” Samuel said from the computers, scratching the back of his neck with his pen. “A diver found it buried near the Grand Reef. Narrowly avoided a few big nasties to get it.” 

“What is it?” Lyra asked, winding her way around the other glass cabinets. Bone fragments, geological samples, and glowing specimens of all kinds lined the transparent shelving, lit by internal lights wedged into each intersection.

“We’re not sure, but it’s powering itself somehow. It’s been floating like that since the divers brought in it.” He scooted his chair over, rolling across the linoleum, and signalled to the faint imprints catching the light. “But come and look at these.”

Lyra neared the suspended artefact and leaned over Samuel’s seat to glimpse the finer details. “They just look like smudges to me.” 

“They’re fingerprints.” 

“Human fingerprints?” 

Samuel shook his head, the corner of his lips lifting into a gratified grin. “Humanoid, maybe, but definitely not human. The genetic coding on this thing is like nothing we’ve ever seen. We sent a sample to the genetics lab, but they haven’t gotten the results yet. I hope they get back soon. I want to know what it is.”

“You’re not the only one,” Lyra chuckled. Samuel shuffled his chair to the computers, stretching his legs to their limit to haul himself along, and she trailed after him, inspecting the other trinkets as she passed them. Since the crash of the Aurora, Alterra had invested millions into researching the world spinning below them, and as much as she wished she could say that it was to further their understanding, all they were interested in was what they might profit from. They’d drain Planet 4546B dry to line their pockets further. The lives lost in their greedy venture and the history they were destroying meant nothing to them. 

“But that’s not why you’re here,” Samuel said, sliding his PDA into the slot on the side of the computer screen and entering his identification code. 

Lyra boosted herself up onto the surface next to him, swinging her legs back and forth as she waited. He worked in silence, bumping his glasses down from the top of his head to his nose as he scrutinised the maps and data, and she tried to keep herself preoccupied. If he couldn’t find the facility, she didn’t know what she’d do, but she refused to sit around and do nothing. If Alterra wouldn’t act, she would. 

“That’s odd.” Samuel clicked his tongue. 

“What? What is it? Have you found it?” 

“I think so. I’ve never seen this part of the data before. Professor Barrett usually takes all the tricky stuff.” 

Lyra slipped down from the countertop and shuffled over, skimming over the geographic data and the attached images. Lava spewed like a waterfall, and the charred seabed had burst, revealing pools of molten magma. “There’s nothing there.” Samuel moved across the page, and slowly, the illustrations surrounding the map disappeared. “Where did the pictures go?”

“We don’t have evidence of that exact area. Hang on.” He brought up a second window and typed at speed, eyes flicking from the keyboard to the screen. The indicator on the atlas fired out green ripples as the scans begun, switching the settings to automatic. After a few anxious minutes, the marker fluctuated and established itself a few centimetres from where they originally were. A singular photograph popped up. 

“Is that the facility?” Samuel dragged the file to the larger monitor on the wall. 

Lyra stood back. Parts of the image lay obscured in the orange murk, shadows teeming where the blaze of magma couldn’t reach, but amongst it, emerging purposefully from the rock face, was a shadowy structure. Tendrils of green flashed from the ingrained patterning like tiny glowing bugs crawling on the surface. “Can you get the coordinates?”

Samuel jotted down the stream of numbers, tearing the paper from the notepad and handing it over. “Are you going to take this to your father and the board after work?” He glanced up at the woman beside him. Her fingers played with the loose corner of the page that had ripped when he’d forcibly removed the sheet, contemplation ebbing across her soft features. “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, please don’t. You’ll only get yourself into trouble. Or killed.” 

“Alterra won’t do anything,” Lyra reasoned. “If my mother is still alive, someone has to find her.”

“I know this is important, but you won’t be doing yourself any-” Raised voices outside intruded on the tranquillity of the lab, and Samuel rolled his eyes, returning to the matter at hand with a disapproving rock of his head. “You won’t be doing yourself any favours by putting yourself in danger.” 

“I can’t let her die.” 

The ruckus rose as flurried footsteps thumped down the passageway outside, a yell and a rattle against the wall alerting them to a rising commotion. 

Lyra darted from the artefact lab, Samuel following close behind and almost crashing into her as she came to an abrupt halt in the doorway, fenced in by a moving blockade of Alterra employees. 

“There isn’t another drill, is there?” he asked. “We only had one a few days ago.”

She shook her head. Management announced drills in plenty of time, and they never elicited this amount of discord. “Robert!” she called, waving the man in question over as he hurtled by her line of sight. His head jerked to the sound of her voice, and he drove through the crowd to reach her. “What’s going on?” 

“They’ve caught her,” the giddy technician said, standing on his tiptoes to gawk over the mass of accumulating bodies before he swung back to the bewildered pair. “They’ve captured Marguerit Maida.” 


	2. All for One

All Ryley wanted to do was rest. His ears vibrated with the shouts and angered yells of his fellow board members, his brain throbbing from the hours of stress-fuelled arguments and stubborn pride. He shoved the door to his apartment closed with an exasperated grunt and ambled into the hallway, eyelids drooping and the siren call of sleep tempting him to his bed. His stomach gurgled. 

The strip of lighting beneath the wall-mounted cupboards activated as he entered the kitchen. The fridge hummed softly and the digital clock on the screen ticked towards midnight. He discarded his jacket over the back of the dining chair, rescuing the dinner Lyra had promised to leave for him and cramming the plate into the microwave. Placing his elbows onto the worktop, he wiped at his face, palming his closed eyes to erase the notion of slumber from them. 

“Is it true? Have you arrested Marguerit Maida?”

Ryley swivelled at the tiny voice, blinking away the blur covering his field of view. “Lyra? What are you doing up? I assumed you were in bed.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she replied plainly, staring at her father with hurt in her eyes and padding into the kitchen. The smooth, metal flooring tingled cold against her exposed feet. “You didn’t answer my question. Have you arrested Marguerit Maida?” 

Ryley hung his head, grasping the surface behind him. “Yes.”

“On what charge?”

“For working against the interests of the Alterra Corporation.” 

Lyra gritted her teeth, the frenzy in her blood simmering. She tightened her fists and took a moment to collect herself. “That planet is not the property of Alterra.”

“Yes it is,” Ryley told her, spitting out the words harsher than he meant to. “They have invested enough time, money and effort for them to claim it as their own. With no sentient beings to communicate with, they class the planet as empty and open for takers.” The microwave pinged, and he jabbed hard at the switch, the door releasing and swinging wide to discharge a cloud of steam. He wafted it aside and used a towel to pick up the scolding hot plate, sliding it down onto the countertop to cool. “I have come from a difficult meeting. Everyone’s at odds. Nobody wants to agree on what to do. I haven’t got the strength to argue with you.”

“What do you want to do?” In her heart, she understood this wasn’t what her father wanted. The purple smudges beneath his eyes and the withering angle of his demeanour were sufficient indicators of the stress and strain he was under. 

Ryley opened his mouth to speak, to unhesitatingly express his wish to see Maida freed, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t have that power. His position on the board of governors was an honorary one, a false act of generosity after the press had pressured them into making a hero of him. Nothing he said counted. Not that he hadn’t tried. He’d put forward countless suggestions, seeking to make Alterra better for everyone, but the ruling elite weren’t interested in the welfare of their staff or the ethics of what they were doing to the planet below. All they craved was information on how they could strengthen their profits. “When I…” He gulped down the gnarling anxiety coiling from his stomach and dropped his eyes to the floor. “When I was down there, I found an island. Some survivors of the crash planned to meet there, only they never made it.” 

Lyra’s resentment ebbed; he’d not spoken like this in a long time, and he scarcely talked about his ordeal after the demise of the Aurora. 

“While I was there, I found Degasi bases and journals. Marguerit survived a crash like the Aurora’s with two others. A Torgal CEO and his heir, if I remember rightly.” The memories floated like specks: the rush of the tide on the shore, and the algae smell of the sea air. The sweat dappled on his brow in the radiating heat. “It didn’t go well for them, and from what I understood from one particular entry, Marguerit had died. Claims were she was last seen drifting away on the back of a Reaper. I must admit, having come up against those bastards, I’m rather impressed.” 

“I’ve heard the stories about Marguerit, dad,” Lyra said. “You can’t work so close to 4546B and not know the tales, but why are you telling me this now?” She joined him at the dining table, clasping her hands together and laying them down in front of her. 

Ryley drew in a powerful breath and released it in a burst of apprehension; he couldn’t keep it from her. She had every right to know, no matter how she might take it, and she’d find out, eventually. It was better coming from him. “Maida spoke to your mother about a week after the reports ceased. She won’t tell anybody what they talked about, but she insists she saw her.” 

Lyra’s jaw slackened and her breathing hitched, her laced fingers breaking apart as she lapsed back. The seat squeaked at the sudden impact. A hundred questions buzzed in her mind like dragonflies, all demanding her attention, all just as important. “She could still be alive?” she breathed, tears pouring down her cheeks in wet trails. Droplets dripped from her chin and onto her purple pyjama top. 

“I’m not sure.”

“I got a message from mum,” Lyra said after a quiet moment. “She sent it before the reports stopped, but I only got it a few days ago.” She spoke hesitatingly, every few words accompanied by a second of silence as she sought to assess his reaction. “She was in a facility and there was lava outside. She thought there might be something significant there.”

“I know that place,” Ryley mumbled, his hunger all but forgotten about and dread filling his veins. His stomach twitched sickeningly. “I told her not to go there.”

“Huh? What did you say?”

“It’s nothing. You know what your mother is… was… I…” He rolled his eyes. “What I mean is you know her well. She explored everything, down to the finest grain.”

“She said this was important.”

“It’s a delayed message. She won’t be there now, and even if by some miracle she was, we wouldn’t find anything good.”

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t look,” Lyra argued. She didn’t understand why he was brushing this off like it was nothing, treating her mother’s last note so nonchalantly they may as well have been discussing the weather. If her mother really was dead, if she had succumbed to the unforgiving tides of the alien world below, surely he’d still want to bring her body home? “No matter what state we find her in, she deserves to be-”

“Lyra, you are meddling in things you don’t understand,” Ryley snapped. “Drop it.” He shoved his chair backwards so hard it almost fell over, snatching his plate from the table and storming into the living room. 

She waited in the hazy hum of the kitchen, hoping he’d come back and apologise for his outburst, but the door remained closed, and she found herself once again left alone with her grief. 

* * *

Lyra jogged down the stairs to the lower decks of the station, the walls resounding with the roar of the ships flying back in to the loading bay. A few pilots wandered by her, their oxygen masks dangling from their faces. It wasn’t odd for lab personnel to be there, but she kept her head down. Her mission required discretion, and the fewer people who saw her, the better. A deafening screech of returning jets rumbled as she passed the lobby leading to the hangar. She scarpered past to evade the brunt of the turbulence, covering her ears to shield them from the blasts of noise. 

The floor beneath her changed from concrete to metal, the grating clanging with each step she took, lower into the belly of the station and through the narrow walkways of the brig. 

At the front desk, she planted her PDA into the connection slot carved into the countertop and slid her authorisation to the guard on duty. 

“Can you confirm your name, position, identification, and reason for being here,” the man requested, fatigued eyes darting across the screen. 

“Lyra Robinson. Junior Researcher. Alterra ID LR90104. I’m here to conduct research for Professor Patrick Pearson.”

“That’s fine. Go on through.”

She snatched her PDA from the counter and crossed through the barriers. The holding cells were mostly bare, just a few stragglers who Alterra wanted to deal with, presumably for trivial matters. But it wasn’t the regular cells she was heading for. Meandering through the twists and angles of the Juno Station brig, she arrived at a bulky metal set of doors and produced her PDA. A blue light shot from the circular scanner mounted at eye-height, floating up and down the device and permitting her entry. 

The units of the segregation block were murkier than those in the regular block. They were drab, cold, and miserable, intended to sap any sense of spirit and life from those locked within. They had placed Marguerit in a cell near the end of the lengthy row of dark cubicles. The woman herself sat stock still on the makeshift bed that stuck out of the wall like a shelf, one knee raised and the other leg dangling off the edge. The toe of her worn boots scraped the grainy ground, and her jacket lay abandoned over the seat nailed down in the corner. 

“Are you not cold in here?” Lyra asked. Admittedly, it hadn’t been the first question she’d planned on asking. 

Marguerit looked up at her guest, cynical eyes scouring her cautiously. “I’ve been in colder,” she responded slowly. 

Lyra approached the tempered glass of her containment unit. She’d assembled a list of things she wanted to ask for Pearson’s research, but that all vanished as she faced the legend Alterra employees whispered about. “You communicated with my mother a few months ago, didn’t you?”

The older woman grinned widely, her browning teeth splitting her lips. She twisted away for a moment and nodded to herself before she shoved herself up off the bench. “I thought you seemed familiar. You’re like a tiny version of Astrid.” 

“Did you speak to her?” 

“I did. Not that I’ll ever tell anyone what we talked about.” 

“Not even her own daughter?”

Marguerit rocked her head side to side, almost sorrowfully. She’d made a vow to Astrid, and she wasn’t about to break it because of puppy dog eyes and a grieving girl. “No.”

As disappointed as Lyra felt, part of her accepted her response. Marguerit and her mother had likely encountered things none of them could comprehend, things that couldn’t fall into the hands of Alterra, and even though she’d never tell a soul, secrets had a habit of spreading in a place like this. It was better to say nothing than risk delicate information reaching the wrong ears. “I think I understand,” she said, striding a little closer. “But that’s not the only reason I’m here. You know the planet, right? The secret ways nobody knows to look?”

“Maybe.” Marguerit frowned, observing the youthful woman; Astrid had chatted about Lyra before, but standing before her, hearing her speak, and catching the mischievous danger in her tone was like listening to Astrid herself. It was almost scary. “Why do you ask?”

“Because Alterra is doing nothing to find my mother, and someone needs to. Can you help me?” 

Marguerit scoffed, bridging her arms over her chest. “What makes you think I’ll agree to that? Do you honestly think I want to go back to that hell?”

“So you’d rather rot in an Alterran prison for the rest of your life?” Lyra lifted an eyebrow. “If you help me find my mother, I will give you the codes to ship we’ll take, and you can leave 4546B and Alterra behind for good.” 

“You are just like your mother,” Marguerit laughed. “Always plotting. How are you so certain this will work?” 

“I’m not, but it’s all I have.” She swallowed hard. “So will you assist me?” Marguerit’s hardened expression only grew fiercer, and for a moment Lyra feared she’d decline, but after a few tense seconds, a beam cracked across her face. 

“I’ll help you. I suppose it’s the only option I have, at least at the moment, and I trust your mother enough to trust you. But you’d better do your damnest to ensure you succeed, because if you don’t, it won’t only be you Alterra go after.” 

It hadn’t been a straightforward decision to make; she wanted to save her mother, but she knew the cost was high. One false move, and everybody she’d ever loved would face the consequences of her actions. “I’m aware of that.” 

“There is something I want to know, though. How are you planning on returning if I have your ship?” Marguerit questioned. 

“Probably in handcuffs,” Lyra admitted. “But if it means I can find my mother, I don’t care what it takes.” 

* * *

She spent the hike back up to the hangar clutching the files to her chest as though they’d leap out of her grasp and vanish into the vacuum of space. Her fingers jittered against the paper, the investigation within them virtually worthless since Maida had refused to answer any of Pearson’s queries, but she didn’t care about that. Her heart sang with the increasing prospect of locating her mother. She tried not to get her hopes up, there was no way of knowing what awaited them on the deadly water planet below, but with Marguerit agreeing to assist her, she felt one step closer to success.

“Someone’s in a merry mood today.” 

Lyra span on her heels. Cassidy casually leaned against the lowered leg of an Alterra jet, calculative eyes regarding her. Behind her, Samuel and Hunter rested against a stack of supply crates. 

“Where are you going on such a rush?” Hunter asked, swinging around the standing support of the plane until Cassidy swatted at him to stop. 

“Work stuff.” Lyra gestured over her shoulder. “It’s hectic. A load of fresh samples arrived this morning and Pearson needs-”

“We know what you’re doing,” Cassidy interjected. “Samuel came to us after you stopped by the artefact lab. Admittedly, we thought nothing of it at first, but after hearing from one of your technician buddies how you so passionately volunteered to speak with Maida, perhaps he wasn’t wrong.” She approached the younger woman, steering her away from prying eyes. The other two followed them into the empty side lobby, blocking the entryway. “He thinks you are planning to go down to the planet to find your mother. Is that true?”

Lyra stared at the shorter male recoiling into the corner and ducking his head so that his flutter of golden hair covered his eyes. She nodded sheepishly, scuffling her feet. “But it doesn’t matter what any of you say, I’m going.”

“I know,” Cassidy assured her, rubbing her upper arms and affording her a light smile to allay the tension emanating from her. “We understand. This is your mother we’re talking about.” She peeked around at the others, the pair behind her nodding solidly. “Which is why we’re coming with you.”

“What?” Lyra squeaked, her hand slapping over her mouth as a couple of maintenance workers dashed down the stairs. 

Hunter moved to let them pass, and they melted into the hubbub of the loading bay. “You didn’t think we’d just leave you to do this on your own, did you?” he replied with an impish grin. “We are a team. Whatever troubles we face, we face them together.” 

“No.” Lyra fervently shook her head. ”You can’t.” 

Cassidy shrugged. “We’ve already decided.” 

She rounded to Samuel, the voice of reason, the rational one of the group, but he appeared just as decided as the others. “You agreed to this too?” 

“I did.” He may not have possessed the confidence of Cassidy and Hunter, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to allow his best friend to confront the perils of 4546B alone. “I’m not a powerful swimmer, I am petrified of almost everything, and the notion of a vast stretch of ocean makes me so nauseous I could vomit for days.” He strode towards her and reached for her hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “But I won’t abandon you.” 

“I can’t ask this of you,” Lyra said, wrestling through the apprehension streaking through her core. This would not be some glory mission. Success was slim, and they were likely to suffer severe repercussions if they returned. 

“You’re not asking,” Cassidy insisted. “We’re going with you, and that’s that. If the higher-ups won’t get off their asses and do something, then we will. We’re with you, Lyra, all the way.” 

Her throat squeaked as she sought to force her words out, but she couldn’t do this alone. Reluctantly, she conceded and bowed her head. 

“Now that’s all settled, do you have a strategy?” Hunter asked. 

“Sort of,” Lyra admitted, lowering her voice. “Marguerit has agreed to help, but it will be risky just getting off the station. What we’ll be doing will get us into major trouble, even if we succeed. Not to mention the fact that it could cost us our jobs and may end up in us spending the rest of our lives behind bars.”

Cassidy and Samuel remained stalwart, acknowledging the uncertainties but accepting them anyway, but Hunter’s grin stretched across his dusky features, expanding from ear to ear and sparkling playfully in his dark brown eyes. “We already told you we were in,” he said teasingly. “You don’t have to keep tempting us.” 


	3. Breakout

“I’m sorry, dad. This isn’t what I wanted.” The PDA trembled in Lyra’s grasp and she fought to keep it steady. Her other hand rested in her lap and her shoulders hunched against the waves of shame splashing against her. "I don’t blame you for being angry with me, but I didn’t do this to hurt you. There’s something down there she wanted me to find. If I can find that, then maybe I can locate her too.” Droplets splashed, wet globs leaking down her face. She sniffled and wiped at her nose, jabbing the square button to stop the recording and throwing her PDA onto the stack of pillows. She glimpsed the photograph on her bedside table and reached out for it, gazing at the three figures smiling out of the frame at her, surrounded by ice and snow. The dark-haired girl beamed, her parents holding her between them. Behind them lay Research Base Zero. She recalled the bitter sting of the air, and the heavy coat she bundled herself into before taking her first steps into the snow of an alien planet. 

The door beeped and slid open. “I know you’re still mad at me for last night, but I brought a peace offering.” Ryley held up a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She peered up at him, eyes red and streaming, and his heart shattered into a million irreparable fragments. “Little blossom,” he breathed, placing the drink down on the bedside table and rushing to comfort her. She placed her head on his shoulder and he noticed the photograph in her limp grip, teardrops pooling in the top corner. “We will find her.” 

“I hate… hate to think of her suffering,” Lyra whimpered, pushing her words through jolted breaths. “With everything that happened to you… I… I…” She crumpled, abandoning the picture frame and curling into herself as the sobs overwhelmed her. 

Ryley wrapped her into his arms and held her close. From the moment she’d been born, Lyra had been his world. The precious little bundle of life he’d vowed to protect. In those tentative years, he’d known what to do to help her. When she was hungry, he fed her. When she cried, all he had to do was pull an amusing face to make her laugh. If she fell, he cleaned her up and put a plaster on the scrape. But now it was different. She’d grown up; she wasn’t that child anymore, and a comical expression and a promise of chocolate for being so brave wouldn’t cut it. He didn’t know what was worse: not knowing what to do to support her, or having the means to support her and being powerless to. 

He reached across to the warm mug and encouraged her to sit up. “It’s not as good as the stuff your mum makes, but I remembered the cream and sprinkles.” 

Lyra gulped down another sob and tightened her clutch on the cup, blowing the tendrils of steam and taking a sip. A blob of whipped cream stuck to her nose, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. “It’s close,” she said, offering her father a slim smile. It faded swiftly. That tearing sensation in the pit of her stomach wouldn’t permit it to last for long. 

“No matter what happens, if the news we get is bad,” Ryley consoled, “you have me. I will always be here for you.” She glanced up at him with jade eyes identical to her mother’s, the tears drying but the pain in them searing through him like a red-hot knife. “You’re my little blossom, and I am so proud of you. Never forget that.” He got to his feet and wiped the smear of cream from her cheek. “You know where I am if you need me.” 

The door glided shut and the guilt swilling in Lyra’s heart teemed. How could she do this to him? He had done everything he could for her, devoted his life to keeping her comfortable, and to sneak around and put him in jeopardy felt like she was throwing those years of care and dedication back in his face. 

Her PDA warbled, and she swiped across the screen to answer the call. 

“It’s all in place,” Cassidy reported. “Are you ready?”

Lyra sipped at her drink, eyes darting from the photograph beside her PDA, and the doorway where her father was just moments ago. 

* * *

Each step down to the holding cells brought with it a pang of shame. Step.  _ You’re putting people in danger. _ Step.  _ Your father will get into serious trouble for this. _ Step.  _ This is a stupid idea. _ She shoved aside each flood of rationality. She was doing this for him, for both of them. He’d suffered just as much as she had these past few months, if not more so with the endless torrent of frustration and arrogance he’d had to endure at the hands of the governing board. 

“Name, position, identification, and reason for being here,” the guard on duty drawled as Lyra pressed her PDA into the slot in the countertop. 

“Lyra Robinson. Junior Researcher. Alterra ID LR90104. Professor Pearson wants me to do further research on Marguerit Maida.” 

“Authorisation letter?”

She wrung her hands, dipping her head and nibbling at her lip. “I don’t have one.” 

“I can’t let you in without authorisation, but I can contact Professor Pearson for verbal permission.” 

“Please don’t,” Lyra blurted, backtracking quickly and composing herself. “He’s in a meeting at the moment. It could take hours.” She leaned over the counter, speaking in a hushed tone as though the faculty head might hear her from twelve levels up. “He’s offloaded this onto me suddenly, and if I can’t get this done by five, I will be in major trouble. All I need to do is ask Maida a few questions, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

The man narrowed his eyes at her, scrutinising every inch of her expression before he nodded indifferently and sent the approval files to her PDA. “I’m only doing this because I saw you the other day, but next time, get your goddamn authorisation letter.” 

Lyra grabbed the device from the counter and saluted to the man, jogging into the holding cells and advancing through to the segregation block. 

In the later hours, they dimmed the lights to simulate a daily sequence, but not enough for anybody to have a decent night’s sleep. They did the bare minimum as detailed in the guidelines on the rights of their detainees, not that there hadn’t been rumours about questionable goings on. She dreaded to think of what they had prepared for Marguerit if she continued refusing to cooperate. Hopefully, they’d never have to find out. 

Upon reaching Marguerit’s holding, she put her finger to her lips. “Stay there,” Lyra instructed, seating herself down on the uneven ground. She drew a tiny silver sphere no bigger than a thumbnail from her jacket pocket and camouflaged it in the walkway corner, aiming the instrument at Maida’s cell. Sweat dappled the back of her neck and her ribs felt tight as her anxiety pinched at her lungs. She needed to remain steady. Breathe. “For the next few minutes, we will have a conversation. Make it look like you’re answering my questions.” 

Marguerit tilted her head, the tattoos on her cheek catching the glow of the hallway lights. “I’ll be honest. I didn’t think you would go through with this.” 

“Why is that?”

“I’ve met many people in my lifetime who are all talk and no balls. Made promises. Never seen them through. Sometimes it’s not their fault, they made those plans without thinking, but each time they’ve gone back on their word.” 

“Was one of those individuals a Torgal CEO?” Lyra pressed. Marguerit’s eyes pierced into her soul, judging it for what it was worth. “My dad found some rather interesting journals on an island when he was down there. Lots of fascinating things in them.” 

“And let me guess. Your dear papa ran to Alterra to tell them about them, and that’s where they got all their information from.” 

“No. He didn’t. He only told me about them last night, and when I looked at the records, there was no mention of anything of the sort found on that island.” Lyra shrugged. “People know the stories, though. To survive a devastating crash, to disappear, presumed dead, and then turn up on the other side of the planet? Mysterious, isn’t it?”

Marguerit’s hardened expression split into a toothy grin, and a roaring bolt of laughter shot through her cracked lips. “You really are like your mother. Seeing how hard you can test someone, how far you can push for the next little detail.” 

“I learned from the best.” 

_ “We’re rolling,” _ Samuel said through Lyra’s earpiece, keyboard keys clacking in the background.  _ “I’ve taken over the cameras and the CCTV footage is replaying the last five minutes. The connection is stable. Countdown has begun.”  _

“I need you to wander about your cell, sit, pace, whatever you’ve been doing normally.” Lyra pushed herself back against the wall and kept as still as she could so that the recorder didn’t catch her shadow. “Don’t say a word.” 

Marguerit eyed the minuscule device hidden from the brig cameras by Lyra’s hip and smirked. She stalked silently around her cell, relaxing for a few minutes and getting up again to stretch her legs. 

Lyra waited and remained motionless as the woman strolled. Her conscience tormented her, running wild in the muffled hum as it reminded her of her father, of her friends, of everyone at risk even if she prevailed. Was it worth it? Was she likely to find her mother alive, or even at all? This could be for nothing. 

_ “We’re done. I’ve got everything I need,”  _ Samuel said.  _ “The code for Maida’s cell is 8741. Cassidy is through security. She’ll be with you in a minute. Make sure Maida doesn’t speak when she goes through.” _

Lyra jumped to her feet and pressed in the numbers on the transparent screen. The tempered glass disconnected at the corner, and the door juddered open. 

Flurried footsteps pattered down the passageway and a walking biohazard suit approached at a sprint. Cassidy hurriedly raised her helmet and shoved it into Marguerit’s hands. “Put this on.” She peeled off the rest of the suit and fixed up her piloting uniform beneath. “When you leave, stay quiet. The guard was asking me stuff, I had no option but to reply.” 

The camera concealed on the ground discharged an orb of light that resolved into the shape of Marguerit Maida. The playback paused until Samuel resumed it. Lyra trailed it, probing for any glitches, but once the pixels had structured themselves, it looked just like the woman herself. 

Marguerit peered back over her shoulder and wheeled around at the sight of the projection wandering the cell. “I have experienced many things in my life,” she admitted, steadfast gaze watching the hologram. “This is a first.”

_ “We don’t have long left,” _ Samuel reported.  _ “The footage is running out. You need to move.”  _

Cassidy and Lyra exchanged a firm nod. “I’ll take the staff exit and get to the ship,” the pilot said, jogging by them and disappearing down the adjacent hall. 

Marguerit adjusted the mirrored screen on her helmet, the hinges squeaking as she nudged it into position to cover her face. She followed Lyra out of the segregation unit, winding through the mostly vacant cells of the brig. Whatever these kids had planned, they’d taken every precaution, calculated every detail, and she had to admire their tenacity. 

“Thank you,” Lyra said to the man behind the reception desk. 

“Did you get everything you needed?” he asked. 

“I did.” She lifted her PDA and beamed sweetly. “You’re a lifesaver.” 

He aimed a riveted gaze at the biohazard suit. “And did you get those readings?”

Marguerit nodded. 

“Was it a leak?” A shake of the head was all he got in response, and he considered the hidden figure suspiciously. “What was it?”

_ Shit, _ Lyra thought.  _ Think.  _

The alarms chimed and the guard huffed, rolling his eyes and shuffling out of his booth. “If that man is kicking at his door again, I swear I’ll scream,” he griped. 

Lyra watched him fade into the maze of cells, her breath catching in her throat as her frayed nerves bristling against her sanity. 

_ “You can thank me later,”  _ Samuel said through the comms.  _ “Now get moving.” _

* * * 

Lyra kept the ship in her sight as she made her way across the hangar. The blinking lights on the ground guided her towards her fate. Just a few more steps. She was pulling the pin from the grenade and throwing it. No taking it back. This was the only opportunity she had to withdraw. She could turn Maida in, stop this now while she still had the chance. Make up some lie about being threatened into it. Tell her friends to abandon their arrangement and pretend none of it ever happened. She could. But she wouldn’t. The doubts fluttered and sought to coerce her, enchant her until all she could do was think about abandoning her plans, but the fire blazing in the deepest depths of her heart burned them all away. Nothing would tame it. It roared. Mighty. Strong. 

She ensured Marguerit was in the craft before she hopped up into the central module, shrugging off her lab coat and flinging it over the side seats. 

Hunter thumped on the ceiling twice. Gas released from the springs as the doors on either side of the ship shut them in. 

“Strap in,” Cassidy instructed through the open door of the cockpit. “We may hit some turbulence.” 

“Great,” Samuel squeaked. “Just what we need.” He fretted with the locking mechanism on his seatbelt until Lyra aided him, her features warm and her touch soft, lulling his nerves. 

She secured herself into the seat next to him, threading her arms through the straps on each side and tightening the belt to her slight frame. 

The vessel swung. Samuel’s jaw tensed, and she reached out for him, taking one of his hands in hers and squeezing it reassuringly. 

Hunter stretched his palm towards him, wiggling his fingers. “Come on, man, don’t leave me hanging.” 

Samuel huffed and snatched hold of the doctor’s hand, maintaining stern eye contact with him before he broke into a grateful smile. Hunter might be the most insufferable idiot, but deep down, he cared.

Lyra beamed at the two, her heart soaring for a fraction before the shaking of the ship reminded her why they were there. The loose fixings on the wall clattered with each intrepid wobble, and the wheels of the craft shuddered along the runway until they came to an unexpected halt. 

“Why has she stopped?” Hunter voiced, twisting his neck to the oval window behind him. “We’re on the airstrip. She can go.”

“Cass?” Lyra called, keeping a tight hold of Samuel’s hand as she leaned forward, craning to see into the cockpit. 

“Bit of a delay,” Cassidy replied. “Won’t be long.” 

Lyra traipsed into the frontal cabin and slipped into the co-pilot’s seat. “What’s going on?” she mouthed. 

Cassidy gestured to the headphones over her ears and then the watchtower sticking out of the side of the station. “We have urgent supplies aboard this craft that need to go,” the pilot insisted. A crackle sounded as she patched the connection through to the speakers. “Eastern quadrant. Emergency code 8941-4QA.”

_ “Pod Nine, we have no record of your application. Please return to the hangar.”  _

“The request came up ten minutes ago.”

_ “Until we have confirmation, we cannot permit you to fly.” _

“Watchtower, this is an emergency flight. The people down there desperately need supplies and medical aid.” Cassidy flicked the switches beneath the steering controls, the fans vibrating in their casing and the nose of the pod lining up with the sprawling stretch of stars. “Are you honestly going to leave them down there for a second longer without help for the sake of a clearance confirmation?” 

Lyra’s eyes flitted between the speakers and the watchtower. The hangar barrier blazed in blue, distorting the view of space outside, a slim barricade and a decision standing between her and her mother. She turned to Cassidy; the pilot remained cool and collected as she reached overhead to activate the last part of the engine. The floor beneath them jittered. 

_ “Pod Nine, you have clearance. You may proceed.” _

Like a shot, the craft hurtled down the runway and into the emptiness of space, rocking and shaking as it adjusted to the change in gravity. Cassidy steered them onto a settled course, activating the secondary controls and setting them to auto-pilot. The quaking of the hull calmed to a distant purr. 

“Nicely handled, Cass,” Lyra said, pushing out a relieved breath and raking her hands through her hair. 

Cassidy beamed proudly. “I can bullshit with the best of them when I need to. It’s a gift.”

Lyra grinned and wriggled until her back hit the rear of the large seat. They’d done it. They’d leaped over the first hurdle, but that wouldn’t be the only one. She was embarking on a mission to the deadliest planet known to mankind. The worst was yet to come. 


	4. The Previous Owners

Lyra swung towards the door frame as she stumbled back into the central hub of the pod, planting her feet firmly until the ship stopped swinging. 

“Why is there so much turbulence?” Hunter complained. “There’s nothing out there.”

“Just the forces of space,” Samuel replied. An unhealthy shade of green, he clutched at the armrests as though the forces he spoke of were about to drag him into the endless vacuum and spread his remains amongst the stars. 

Hunter tutted at him and unbuckled his belt, tugging on a ceiling wrung to propel him out of his seat. He barged his way past Lyra and struck the button on the cockpit door frame, closing the door behind him. 

“I think he’s just anxious,” she said, perching herself beside Samuel and reaching out for him. 

He side-eyed her and pulled at his seatbelt until the metal restraining him surrendered. “I’m going for a lie down,” he muttered, traipsing into the back and drawing the curtain to shut himself away. 

Lyra retracted her hand. Fighting the guilt swelling in her gut, she focused on the smooth rumble of the craft and the twirl of her thumbs as they danced around one another. Anything to take her mind off the swirling cascade of thoughts prodding at her already tender conscience. The glaring presence opposite her moved and she peeked up at Marguerit. “I suppose you think I should talk to them.”

The older woman shook her head. “Personally, child, I think you should stop caring about what others expect you to do, and do what you think is right.”

“In that case, I should probably leave them alone for a while,” Lyra mused. “That’s always worked best in the past. I just feel…” She scratched at her hand and avoided Marguerit’s scrutiny. 

“What? Say it.”

“Guilty.” She bowed her head. “They are my best friends, I wouldn’t be without them for anything, and yet here I am, dragging them into the unknown.”

Marguerit leaned forwards, resting her elbows on her knees. “Did you ask them to come with you?”

“They figured out what I was planning to do and said they were coming with me.”

“Did you force them?”

“No.” Lyra waved her satisfied grin away. “I get what you’re trying to say, but it doesn’t rid me of the guilt. If something happened to them, I’d never forgive myself.”

Marguerit slid over to the seats on the other side of the module, countering the quakes of the craft with quick footwork. “Every emotion is there for a reason, but guilt is tricky. I know all too well how destructive it can be and what it does to your head.” 

“Is that why you agreed to help me?” Lyra pressed. “You spoke to my mum, you have more knowledge about this than you’re letting on, and you feel guilty having to look her daughter in the eyes and withhold information?” 

“Perhaps that has a part to play in why I came with you on this crazy mission,” Marguerit admitted, “but the truth is I’m a risk taker, just like you.” She nudged the younger woman’s leg with her knee playfully. 

Lyra fought against the impulse to fidget and resolved to sit tall in her seat. Marguerit was right. She hadn’t forced her friends to come with her; they were there of their own volition. The best thing she could do was appreciate their help and focus on keeping them alive. “What happened to you on 4546B?” she asked, expecting Marguerit to outright refuse to answer. 

“You’ve heard of the Torgal cooperation, right?”

Lyra nodded. 

“They hired me as a security guard aboard the Degasi, under the command of the CEO, Paul,” Marguerit began, eyes fixated on the sprawling array of stars outside the opposite window. “He was a selfish man, far too greedy for his own good, and he knew that 4546B was full of valuable resources. As we approached, an Architect platform shot us down. Out of the entire crew, only myself, Paul, and his son, Bart, survived.” She shifted in her seat and stretched her legs out. “Paul and I never got on, so the arguments were inevitable, but Bart was a kind soul, nothing like his father. You remind me of him. Young, bright, and full of adventure. He didn’t deserve such a cruel fate.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. Nothing any of us can do about it now. I didn’t have a clue what had befallen either of them until I hacked into the Torgal network and found the records. Alterra located some of Bart’s journals when they were excavating around the Aurora and sent notifications. Apparently, a Crabsquid got Paul. Dumb idiot never knew when enough was enough, but Bart he…” Marguerit swallowed thickly and rubbed at her cheek, hunching over her juddering legs. The recollections came like a rainstorm, each droplet soaking through to her core where she hid those painful memories. “Bart caught the Kharaa. I suppose you can guess what happened to him.”

Lyra sat in stunned silence, still as stone and heart pounding with each devastating revelation. Even if she’d have wanted to say something, she wasn’t sure what she could say. 

“He was nineteen, and he died in pain and alone on some alien world,” Marguerit breathed, angry more than anything else that Bart had had to suffer so horrifically. “But that is what this planet does, and you’re a fool to be going down there.” 

The tannoy crackled, the speakers on either side of the cockpit door churning out flickers of sound. 

_ “If you look to the left, you’ll see the Vesper station, famed for having faculty members so unemotional, they may as well have sticks up their asses,” _ Cassidy announced, followed by a short snort of laughter from Hunter before the pilot cut the transmission. 

The two women peered over their shoulders as the base came into view, hovering outside the blue planet’s atmosphere. Samuel peeked around the drapery from the back room to get a glimpse. 

“There is a little birdie down there causing quite a lot of trouble for them,” Marguerit commented, sullen eyes trailing the space station as their pod drifted just out of tracking range. 

“Where did you hear that?” Samuel asked, venturing out into the connecting module. 

The mercenary turned to the man wandering closer to the window, a smirk creeping across her lips. “From the little birdie herself.” 

* * *

“How is he?” Lyra inquired. “Still asleep?”

Samuel nodded, meeting her by the elliptical window and chancing a brief peek at the dim, unforgiving depths of the universe. “Out of all of us, I thought I’d be the one throwing up. I’m surprised I haven’t. I always get travel sick.”

Behind them, Marguerit stirred in her slumber and turned her back on them as she tucked herself closer to the wall. 

Lyra covered her with a coat and returned to the window, following Samuel’s gaze out into space. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered. “I’m aware you don’t want to be.” She held her hand up to prevent him from insisting he did, his mouth hanging open before he resigned himself to the truth. “I know you will always be by my side, no matter what stupidity I bring your way, and I can’t blame you for being hesitant. This isn’t just stupid; this might kill us all.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Samuel replied, trying to force a smile onto his face. “I’m not adventurous like Cassidy, and I’m not eager to jump into danger like Hunter. I’m rather weak, really.”

“No.” Lyra shook her head and leaned against the hull. She glanced around Samuel to the rear module where Hunter’s snores permeated through the curtain. “You’re the bravest of us all,” she told him, infusing sincerity into every word. “You may not be bold or willing to throw yourself into the middle of peril, but that doesn’t mean you’re not brave. You’re scared, terrified out of your wits, I’m sure, but you’re still here, and that means more to me than anything.” She brought him in for a tight embrace, arms circling his shoulders and her forehead pressed to the crook of his neck. “You, Hunter, and Cassidy are my best friends, and I love you all dearly,” she affirmed, the whisper of his fingertips soothing down her back. 

“We love you too,” Samuel assured her. 

Lyra beamed and held onto his arms, the golden sheen of his hair glittering in the incoming glow of a nearby sun. “Whenever you feel scared, just imagine of all the cool stuff we will find down there. Artefacts that no human has ever seen, and you will be the first.”

He pretended to ruminate on the thought and grinned. “As long as we don’t encounter any sleeping Mesmers, we’ll be fine,” he chuckled. Lyra chortled with him, and he enjoyed the moment while it lasted. 

Out of the window, 4546B came into view, a blue stream of light washing over the interior of the ship as they neared the planet’s atmosphere. 

“Thank you for having faith in me,” he said sincerely, holding onto her hand. “It’s more than most have.” 

* * *

The ship swung through the atmosphere of Planet 4546B, tails of flame rocketing from the hull as it wrestled with the forces eager to bring it crashing down. 

Lyra loosened the straps around her torso and swivelled in her seat. The clear blue sky opened to them as they broke loose of the pressure, and splotches of land grew below. Speeding towards an island in the northern reaches, she spotted a shadowed mass fixed in the calming waters. As the light shifted, she realised what it was. The skeleton frame crawled up to the clouds like writhing vines, the main bulk of the Aurora struggling to remain afloat, slowly descending into the depths. In a few years, it may not be there at all. 

_ “We’re coming in to land,” _ Cassidy informed them.  _ “Might be bumpy so tighten your belts.” _

The hull creaked as the ship lurched forwards and dipped. Lyra kept her eyes on the world outside, watching as the ocean rose towards them at speed. The wheels lowered and just when she thought they may hit the waves, sand shot up and sprayed the windows. With a few bumps and a sway, they trembled to a standstill. 

The clamour of the engine faded, and the pistons fired to drop the door and let the sunlight in. 

_ “Scans have approved the area,” _ Cassidy reported. _ “You’re all clear to vacate the craft.” _

Hunter was the first out of his seat, vaulting down the steady incline and throwing his head back in bliss. 

Samuel clambered out after him, eyeing the terrain suspiciously before he took those initial tentative steps. The warm sand prickled his feet, and the blasts of heat radiating from the sun burrowed beneath his dive suit. 

“Breathe in that fresh air, Sammy boy,” the doctor gushed. “Have you ever smelled anything so clean?” 

“I hate it when you call me that,” Samuel grumbled, holding his hands out to stabilise himself as he traversed the uneven sands. Something circular crawled towards him, a bioluminescent ring glowing from the top. The creature launched itself at him and he stumbled back into Hunter.

“Careful of the cave crawlers,” Lyra called to the pair, shielding her eyes as she descended the ramp with Cassidy and Marguerit following close behind. “They’re not dangerous, but they can give you a nasty nip.” 

“Now you tell us!” Samuel squeaked, hiding behind Hunter as the spindly beast scuttered away. 

Lyra pushed her way towards the shade beneath the island’s mighty mountains, her vision adjusting and granting her a better look at the layout. The peaks rose and pierced the clouds and plant life sprouted around the area, but the most prominent feature was the alien structure jutting from the western side of the island. Each block built it higher, but there didn’t seem to be any logic in the construction. “The design of this tower is like the facility my mum was in,” she said, glancing up at Samuel. “Have you got the coordinates?”

Samuel swiped at his PDA and clicked his tongue as the information loaded. Green paths wove around the map, charting their current location and the way ahead. “Once we’ve constructed the sea pod, we need to head that way,” he instructed, pointing them south. “I don’t know how the hull integrity will hold up as we get deeper, so we may have to swim the last hundred metres, but there should be an opening-”

“If we’re clever, swimming won’t be necessary,” Marguerit told them, four sets of inquisitive eyes turning to her. “The previous owners of the planet built complex teleportation systems that could take them from one end of the world to the other.” She gestured to the mountains and swished her hand out to the sprawling seas. "I can show you. There should be an archway close by.” 


	5. Remnants of the Past

“Climbing is not my strong suit,” Samuel panted, boosting himself up the steep ridge and mopping his brow. They’d been clambering for what felt like hours, higher into the mountains in pursuit of the transport system. He wasn’t even sure it existed. For all they knew, Marguerit was leading them on a goose chase for her own amusement. 

“I’d better help you then,” Hunter said, pivoting on his heels and putting Samuel in a fireman’s lift before he could utter a word in response. With a whimsical grin, he strode past the others and continued on the trail upwards. 

“Put me down!” the hoisted man demanded. 

“Are you sure you want me to do that? We’re in for quite a hike.”

Samuel stopped wriggling and pushed himself up, seizing hold of Hunter’s bicep to squint over his shoulder at the way ahead. “I’m fine here,” he decided, flopping back down. 

“Not too far now,” Marguerit told them. “The next turn will take us to a cave entrance. The arch is in there.” 

Hunter saluted and allowed the mercenary to lead them, gently adjusting the man in his arms so he wouldn’t slip from his grasp. “If this becomes uncomfortable, let me know.”

“It’s better than having to climb,” Samuel sighed. He swept the dangling lengths of his hair and tucked them behind his ear, capturing a glimpse of the view behind them. The sea glittered as though dappled with jewels, the reflection of the descending sun casting a pinky hue over the water and tempting the curious to its shores. 

Marguerit jogged a few metres ahead and signalled to the cave opening at the other end of the winding track. “Just in here!” she called. 

The entrance lay bathed in shadows as though waiting for the original owners to return. Cave Crawlers scuttled across the sand and up the walls, the blue rings twisting as they surveyed the intruders. 

As the exhausted travellers reached the main cavern, the green glow hit them, drawing them in. The diamond structure in the centre took up most of the room, the rectangular columns surrounding it providing a little more light. 

Lyra gawped at the gate, fatigued eyes unblinking as she neared it. The alien construction reacted to her presence, and a bright shimmer worked a course through the rivets and inlays. She ran her hand over the spines stemming from the teleportation port, the metal warm and tingling against her fingertips. 

Hunter placed Samuel back on his feet and steadied him. “You good?” 

Samuel nodded and offered the doctor a grateful smile, rounding to the rest of the cave. He didn’t know where to look first; the hovering lights, the heavy coiled wiring, the enormous gate. This was a level of architecture humanity could never match. He bounced over to Lyra, the pair of them giggling like excited children. 

“How do we switch this thing on?” Cassidy questioned, crossing her arms over her chest as she searched for a lever or a button. She knocked her foot against one of the squat blocks positioned around the place, and a neon gleam spread from the point of impact, shivering up the engravings. 

Marguerit approached the plinth facing the port and a box sprung from within. “Do any of you have an ion cube?” She took the silence circulating through the group as her answer and puffed out a sigh. 

“The tower we passed might have some,” Samuel suggested. “Many of the excavators reported that they found samples of them near Architect structures.”

“To the tower it is then,” Marguerit decided, traipsing across the uneven stone and towards the cave mouth. 

“We have to climb back down?” Cassidy complained. 

“It seems so,” Lyra said with an encouraging smile. “Either that or take a swim with the fishes to get to the lava facility.” 

* * *

Lyra shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare and looked the Quarantine Enforcement Platform up and down. Her father had walked these sands, passed through the doorway and shut the building down so he could escape. With every whistle of the breeze, she heard his voice calling to her, begging her to come home, to stop acting so recklessly. 

“Lyra?”

“Hm.” She whirled to her left where Samuel hesitated, eyebrows knitted together and his head tilted. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You seemed to zone out for a minute.”

“I’m fine. I need to get out of this heat.” She drew her PDA from the holder on her arm and lifted the device to the darkened entryway, skimming over the scans and ignoring Samuel’s concerned reflection. “The readings aren’t showing anything of worth in there.” She squinted and trampled into the shade, cupping her hand over the screen to keep the sun from glaring off the glass. “Are you sure this is where we’ll find an ion cube?” 

“I guess so. All the ion cubes the excavators found came from Architect structures like this one.” 

“But what if they’ve taken them all?” Lyra reasoned. “What do we do if there’s none here?” 

Samuel shrugged. “Then we resort to plan A, I suppose.” He led the way into the dim building and slipped his torch from his belt, clicking the button to adjust the intensity of the glow. “The scans aren’t showing any ion cubes in the area, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. We can’t rely on their glow alone as it diminishes over time, but they have a distinct trait,” he explained to the group, shifting the light from one side of the dusty room to the other. “They resist dust and sand particles, anything dirty, so our best bet would be to look around anywhere that appears to be clean.” 

“We’ll save time if we split up,” Cassidy suggested. “Hunter, Marguerit and I can take the upper levels, and you two can search the lower levels.” 

Lyra nodded. “Be careful and shout if you need help.“ 

The three dashed into the gloom and the rays from their torches disappeared up the ramps. Shadows settled in the absence of their light, darkened veils descending from the inclines and shrouding the deeper areas in a curtain of secrecy. 

“I wonder what this place was like a few years ago?” Samuel mused, examining the intricate details ingrained into the walls. “I bet it was magnificent.” He peeked back over his shoulder at Lyra, her jade eyes fixated dead-set ahead of her and her arms folded around her middle. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Lyra considered lying to him and making some excuse so they might press on, but the nauseating remorse gnawing at her conscience wouldn’t leave her. It rattled at the back of her mind like a tormented prisoner shaking at their chains, refusing to allow her a moment’s peace. “Being here brings back everything that happened to my dad. I can’t stop thinking about how he suffered down here, how he was alone and afraid.” She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. “He survived against damning odds, he returned to his family. And then I’m reminded that I am screwing him over by doing this, but I don’t know what else to do.” The tears formed globs and spilled down her cheeks. She buried her face in her palms and whimpered, feeling Samuel’s warmth as he tugged her close. 

“You went to Alterra and asked them to find Astrid, and they didn’t,” he reasoned. “They have all the means to send out a rescue team, but they refused. I don’t blame you for taking matters into your own hands. If my mother was in a situation like this, I like to think I’d do the same.” He held onto her arms as she drew back, helping her wipe away the tears and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I know this is difficult, but we’re all here for you.”

Lyra nodded, dragging in a shaky breath and composing herself. “Thank you.” 

Samuel slid his hand into hers and laced their fingers together, driving onwards into the deeper parts of the tower. The gloom and murk slowed them down, but he located a few clean areas and crouched down to inspect them. The readings confirmed the recent presence of an ion cube. “It’s looking more and more likely they were all taken,” he sighed, swinging the torchlight around the tiered room as he pushed himself back up. “It wouldn’t surprise me. Alterra make sure they sweep a place clear of anything valuable before they leave.”

Fervent footsteps thumped against the ramps, echoing and growing louder. Samuel and Lyra steeled themselves, preparing for an attack. 

Cassidy thundered down the incline alone and, to their relief, unfollowed, brandishing an angular, almost translucent block. “I found one!” she declared, her enthusiastic grin lit by a faint green glimmer. She veered to a standstill and presented her find to Samuel, catching her breath while he scanned the treasure. 

“It’s active,” he reported. “Only just, but it should be enough.” 

“Shouldn’t you be wearing gloves when handling that?” Lyra asked. 

“It only tingles a bit,” Cassidy assured her. 

Hunter and Marguerit jogged down the slopes, eyeing the resource balanced in the pilot’s hands. 

“Nice find, Cass,” the doctor commended, beaming at the lucky find. 

“Samuel’s advice helped,“ Cassidy replied. “I discovered it wedged down a corner. My guess is an excavator hid it and planned on coming back to retrieve it in secret.” She bore the cube up to her eyeline and rotated it delicately, following the facets and the dim, pulsating glow.

“We should get to the gate while it’s still active,” Marguerit pointed out. “The last thing we need is that cube dying.” 

* * *

Marguerit slid the ion cube onto the raised podium and squinted as the gate powered itself up. “Come on,” she murmured to the apparatus. If this didn’t work, they’d have to take the long route, and she knew better than most what lay in the ocean. These kids wouldn’t survive it. The arches were their only chance. 

Lyra marvelled at the alien technology. She trailed the green tendrils that charged through the rivets in the structuring and injected the diamond frame with a fluctuating fluid. Ripples emanated from the centre and she skimmed her fingertips over the surface, the energy surging down her arm and prickling against her skin. 

“I wouldn’t get too close,” Marguerit warned, removing the grate on the side of the podium and kneeling down with a groan to inspect the controls. “I need to program a location. If it dragged you through now, we don’t know where you might end up.” 

Lyra backed away from the undulating gate and returned to her friends. 

“Have you got the coordinates of the facility?” the mercenary asked, holding out her hand and clicking her fingers. 

Samuel handed over his PDA and maintained a sensible distance from the gate, glaring at it as though the peculiar liquid might ooze from its casing and writhe towards him. “Are you sure this is safe for humans?” he questioned. 

“I’ve been through them a fair few times and it hasn’t done me any harm,” Marguerit assured him. She twisted the dials within the podium with accuracy and care, keeping a watchful eye on the green cascades of light flooding through the structure. The liquid-like substance filling the gateway convulsed again and settled smoothly. She pushed herself up back onto her feet and dusted down her trousers, replacing the grate and gesturing for the four youngsters to approach. “It’s all set. Who wants to go first?” 

“Can’t we all go at the same time?” Hunter asked. 

“Not unless you want to get melded together.”

“I’ll go,” Cassidy offered, proceeding towards the port before Hunter swept an arm out to intercept her.

“No,” he said. “I should go.”

“I’m the most expendable,” Samuel interjected. “I’ll do it.” 

“Don’t say that,” Lyra begged, pausing before the transportation gate. She lifted her hand, fingers coiling in on themselves before she forced them flat. “Nobody is disposable.”

Samuel, Hunter and Cassidy jolted and checked the spot where she’d been only seconds ago, now vacant. 

“We’re all here because of me, so it’s only right I go first,” Lyra insisted, pushing her hand into the transporter and fighting the thudding of her heart. It didn’t hurt like she thought it might, not even an uncomfortable pinching. To her surprise, it tickled. Taking in a few settling breaths, she squeezed her eyes shut and stepped through, feeling her body being pulled into the machine and ejected again just as swiftly. 

Tentatively, she squinted before fully opening her eyes again, absorbing the fervent orange flush of the facility. The window appeared to waver in the heat, a land of lava and flame trapped outside. Ripples of magma bubbled on the surface of the river, and pillars of the deadly liquid burst into the air and splattered the rocks. A roar rumbled from the depths and a massive, scaled creature swam past, launching streams of fire from its mouth. Lyra placed her hand on the glass as though she might reach out and skim the creature’s side, imagining the texture of the plates covering its body. 

Four sets of footsteps rattled down the metal grating as the others made it through the gate. 

“Is that a dragon?” Cassidy blurted, gaze glued on the colossal monster bullying its way around the lake. 

“It looks like one, doesn’t it,” Lyra mused. She followed the trajectory of the humongous beast, her eyes reflecting the jets of flame gushing from its mouth. “Makes me glad we didn’t have to take the scenic route.” 

“You can say that again,” Samuel laughed nervously. “Its teeth are bigger than we are.”

Lyra traipsed around the rest of the hallway to get her bearings. The green glow shimmered where the orange couldn’t reach, dancing along each inlet. Still active, still functioning, but why? “What was my mum doing here?” she wondered aloud. 

“I was thinking the same thing,” Marguerit admitted. “Astrid is a clever woman, she always has a reason for doing something.” 

“Hey! Lyra! Come look at this,” Hunter called, waving her over. 

Lyra slipped around the medic to get to the window and stared out at a whirlwind of water forming an orb. She leaned closer to the pane and almost screamed as an oddly shaped creature burst out of the electrified portal. Beady pink eyes observed her through the glass, sharp limbs dangling over an opaque pouch of ribs and organs. The monster considered her closely, pushing itself towards her. 

“What is it?” Cassidy asked, recoiling in disgust at the creature’s composition. 

“That is a Warper,” Marguerit replied, holding back and granting them their moment of awe while it lasted. “The Architects created them to hunt down anything that might have the Kharaa. They’re harmless to us.” 

Lyra’s PDA buzzed and she plucked it from her pocket, skimming across the unusual symbols glitching onto her screen. “Any idea what this means?” she asked Samuel, tilting the device so he could get a better look. 

Samuel peered over her head. “No clue,” he shrugged. “I haven’t seen a language like that before.” 

“So it’s not Architect?” 

“Not that I can tell. I’ve never much of a chance to study their texts before, but if you send over the file I can try to find a pattern.” 

Lyra sent the files and returned to the creature as it disappeared again, vanishing into a gush of disturbed water before the sea dragon could snap its jaws around it. 

_ “Are you here to play?”  _

Lyra chuckled under her breath and peeked up at Hunter, the doctor hovering over her shoulder. “What did you say?” 

“Huh?” he replied, narrowing his eyebrows and shuffling to get closer to the window. “I didn’t say a thing.”

Lyra glanced between the group, trying to determine who spoke, but they were all still gaping at the lava lake and the other-worldly creatures swimming around outside. The voice wasn’t one she recognised. It was airy, ethereal, a curious whisper on a breeze. Nothing like the warm, familiar voices of her friends. 

_ “The others cannot hear me. I speak only to you, Lyra Robinson, daughter of the tide. Come. Join me. I have something important to show you.”  _


	6. The Sacrificial Lamb

Like a decrepit house abandoned for centuries, the halls of the lava facility creaked. Vacant corridors groaned and mirrored each footstep, each breath. The luminescent green light crept along the walls and slid through the labyrinthine patterns, dispersing the shadows that had lain there for a dozen lifetimes. 

“Are you sure Marguerit will be okay back there?” Samuel asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “It doesn’t feel right leaving her.”

“She’s survived way worse than waiting,” Cassidy replied. “Besides, it was her idea to wait.” 

“She promised to call if there are any problems,” Lyra assured him, tapping her nail on the PDA attached to her arm. 

“And you trust her enough not to run off and leave us here?” Samuel challenged. “Or contact Alterra to tell them where we are?” 

“I do.” Lyra patted his shoulder as she passed him and jogged up the ramp to the central reservation. Tubes and wiring poked into the tank where a deceased creature lay contorted in on itself. It died helpless. Trapped and alone. She hunched down to get a better look at the specimen, pinpointing the lines where brutal hands had cut and sliced with precision, but not with sympathy. A sorrow prickled within her heart as she stared at the poor little soul. 

_ “My child,” _ the voice lamented, emanating in the deepest reaches of her mind.  _ “Taken from me by savages. Carved up for the vultures to study.” _

Whooshes of colour rushed past Lyra and she tumbled back onto the grate. Centaur-like beings galloped by her and left a river of lilac and blood red sparkles in their wake. Alarms blared somewhere in the distance, and the stark warning to evacuate looped over it. A creature leapt over her in their haste to flee, their horned head swaying and the lights within their frame shifting from a neon purple to a distressed crimson. 

_ “Monsters. All they knew was to dissect, never to show compassion or to ask for what they desired. They almost took everything. Their ignorance killed them.”  _

Lyra’s chest heaved with each panicked breath. Why was she seeing these things?  _ How _ was she seeing these things? Sturdy arms lifted her and the strange creatures vanished, the trails of sparkling red floating away. 

“What happened?” Cassidy inquired, letting go of the woman once she was upright again. “I heard a bang, and when I turned around, you were on the floor.” 

“I snagged my foot on the grating as I tried to get up,” Lyra responded. 

“Never had you down as the clumsy type, but as long as you’re not hurt…”

Lyra nodded and rubbed her palms down her legs to free them of the scratchy dust. “We should move on. I don’t think we’ll find much more in here.” 

The building held a plethora of artefacts and rooms, entire halls crowded with relics and eggs from the creatures that called 4546B home. They spent some time examining them and comparing them to the Alterra archives, and made notes of their own as they ventured deeper into the planet’s tumultuous history. Everywhere they went, the green glow followed, igniting in the structural framing and guiding them through the forsaken facility. 

Stepping into a darkened chamber, Lyra halted and awaited the neon green shimmer. The place remained shadowed but for the rectangle of water in the centre. Overhead, the ceiling sloped and blocks hung above the pool, reflecting the white sheen. 

“I wonder what’s down there,” Samuel said, leaning forwards to peek into the clear depths. 

“Only one way to find out.“ Lyra hooked her rebreather mask over her face and secured the latches. “If there is anything dangerous down there, come straight back up.”

“Like we’d stay down there to get eaten,” Hunter jested, his jovial tone crackling through the receivers in their face masks. 

“In that case, I’ll see you all in there.” Lyra dived in and sank onto a platform a few metres below. 

Three plumes of white bubbles fizzed as the others plunged feet first into the aquarium.

“What the hell is this doing here?” Hunter spun to gather his bearings, the water whooshing around him. 

“Could be a vehicle platform, or an observation stage?” Samuel suggested, crawling to the edge of the platform. He peeked over cautiously and abruptly pushed himself backwards in a rush of bubbles. 

Cassidy caught him in his whirlwind haste to retreat and held him steady. “Calm down, Samuel. What is it?” 

“There’s something big down there,” he screeched, grabbing hold of the pilot in his panicked state. Rough breaths whistled through the speakers in their masks. “Massive even.” 

Lyra floated to the rim of the wide surface and gazed down at the aquarium below. Fish of all kinds swam in peace, not a single aggressive snip or snap in sight. Flora sprouted from the sands, and an arch like the one they’d passed through to get to the facility lay at the other end of the containment. In the centre of it all rested a motionless creature, bones poking through the scraps of skin and scale still clinging to its skeleton. “Whatever it is, it’s dead,” she assured them. “None of the critters down there seem to be dangerous either. Even the Stalkers aren’t attacking anything.” 

“Doesn’t mean they won’t try to take a bite out of us,” Samuel pointed out. 

Lyra grabbed the side of the metal plank and propelled herself down into the depths of the aquarium. She kicked her legs to continue the downward motion and halted once she’d reached the Architect structures at the bottom. Alien blocks seemed to spring from random locations around the containment, situated strategically she imagined, not that she could sense any pattern to them. 

The others split to cover more ground, and Lyra explored the arch and the skeleton. Five empty holders sat around a plinth like the one Marguerit used to get them there. She reached into the first box and felt something sharp brush against the back of her hand, startling for a moment before realising it wasn’t moving and drawing it out. She thought it a piece of fractured pottery, but when she turned it over she clocked the distinct curve of an egg.

_ “My children, now free,” _ the wispy voice called, louder this time. Closer. 

Lyra looked up at the colossal skeleton, her eyes almost bulging from their sockets. An absurd thought struck her. “Are you the one speaking to me?”

“What was that?” Samuel questioned, his words waning through the fluctuating connection. 

“Nothing.” She kept her attention fixed on the decaying face and the drooping antennae of the deceased creature. “I thought I heard something, but it was a bit of static. Nothing to worry about.” She jabbed at the side of the mask to shut off her microphone and paddled towards the remains. “You’re the one who’s been talking to me?”

_ “I am, child.” _

“How? I mean no disrespect, but you seem rather… dead.”

_ “A body may die, but a spirit does not,”  _ the creature replied.  _ “Your father came here once. He helped me. But I was awaiting your arrival.” _

Lyra glided forwards and crossed through wide, crooked ribs, the arching bones flowing above her and sinking down into the sand below. “Why were you waiting for me?”

_ “We must protect our world at all costs. Greedy hands reach for the riches this planet nurtures, and whatever they can’t take, they will destroy.” _

“But what has this got to do with me?” Flecks of colour jostled before her eyes. A prickling sensation teemed at the outskirts of her mind, and a roaring pain flared in her brain. A flickering face grew before her, four blue orbs examining her and a veiled silhouette fluttering behind them. She clenched at her head where the excruciating torture blazed and fought against the overpowering tide bristling against her. Her finger flicked at the microphone switch on her mask as she desperately clutched at her skull.

_ “There is a woman who needs your help. She is cold. Take this. You will need it.” _

The agony sparked through her body, her vision riddled with a crushing light. She tried to call out to the others, but all that shot through her lips was an unstoppable, ear-piercing cry before the darkness swallowed her whole. 

* * *

Hunter thundered down the hallway. His footsteps resounded on the metal like a coin rolling down a pipe, clanking in a rapid rhythm as he rushed back to the gate. Lyra jostled and whimpered in his arms. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he soothed, rounding the corner and finding Marguerit waiting for them. 

“What the hell happened to her?” the mercenary demanded, taking one look at the limp woman in his grasp and staring at the others accusingly. 

“No idea,” Cassidy replied, collapsing to her knees opposite Hunter as he lay Lyra down on the ground. 

“Here,” the doctor said, lifting Lyra’s head. “Put your hand here. And be careful. I don’t know what damage there might be.” Once Cassidy had a secure hold of the injured woman’s neck, he ripped the first aid kit from his belt. The velcro backing scraped against his fingers as he turned the pack over and wrenched at the zip. “Samuel, take this. Keep it pointed towards me. Steady as you can.” He thrust out his PDA for Samuel to hold before loosening the top of Lyra’s dive suit and sticking multiple pads to her pulse points. “Her heart rate is a little high, but she’s breathing.” 

Marguerit held back, waiting to be of service if the physician called upon her. “Was she attacked?”

“There was no blood, so I don’t think so,” Samuel said, hunching down to position the PDA better and peering up at the mercenary. “We were in a containment aquarium, but the creatures down there weren’t aggressive. There was a massive skeleton, and Lyra was exploring it. We heard her scream through the comms, but by the time we got to her, she was unconscious.” 

“Temperature stabilising,” Hunter reported, concentrating on the many readings popping up on his PDA. “Physiology scans won’t settle though. They’re scrambling around her head.” He slipped his hands underneath Lyra’s skull and gently unlocked the clasps on her mask, sliding it over her face. He almost buckled at the sight that greeted him, but kept himself composed for his patient’s sake. 

“What are they?” Samuel gasped, gaping at the semi-circular orbs sticking out of Lyra’s temples. 

The doctor checked her vitals and took a syringe from the first aid bag, ripping the protective tube off with his teeth and spitting it onto the floor. "Cassidy, support her head again and try to keep still.” He urged the needle into the sleeping woman’s neck and gradually pressed on the plunger until the clear liquid had drained.

Lyra’s ribcage heaved and she vomited water, coughing and retching uncontrollably. Her hand shot to Hunter’s chest as she desperately tried to grab a hold of him. 

“Where did all that come from?” Cassidy sputtered, angling herself away from the gathering puddle. “She was wearing a mask and it’s dry.” 

“I don’t know,” Hunter replied, busying himself with pacifying his frantic patient. He brushed through her hair with his fingers and held onto the hand clutching the blended Lycra of his swimsuit. “It’s all right, just breathe. That’s it.” He gave a cursory glimpse at the readings on his PDA. “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty. How are you feeling?”

“Rough,” Lyra wheezed, the initial shock dissipating. She squinted around at the perturbed faces surrounding her and puffed out some steady breaths. “How did I get here?”

“You blacked out,” Cassidy explained, stroking her head. “Do you not remember?” 

With Hunter’s aid, Lyra sat herself up, the dizzying sensation beginning to melt away and the memories returning like bubbles popping. “I recall a face,” she mumbled. “And a voice.” 

Marguerit stooped down by the shaken woman, unable to avoid the glowing ellipses protruding from the side of her head. “What did this voice say?” she asked gently. 

“Something about greedy hands wanting to take things, and that the planet needs protecting.” Lyra groaned and rubbed at her forehead, the pounding relentless and nauseating. “I can’t remember much more.”

“We shouldn’t worry about that now,” Hunter said, removing the pads on her chest and helping her zip up her dive suit. “We need to find somewhere to rest.“ 

“I saw an old Alterra base as we were coming in,” Cassidy told him. “It didn’t look like it was being used.” 

The skilled doctor packed up his medical gear and stuck the pack back on his belt. He aided Lyra to her feet and wound an arm around her waist, keeping all of her weight on him as he manoeuvred her towards the gate. Once there, he passed her over to their pilot. “Send her through after me,” he instructed before rushing through the portal and emerging back in the cave. Seconds later, the raven-haired woman staggered through the wavering green liquid. He caught her before she could topple to the stone and held her tight. “You good?” 

Lyra nodded and chuckled as he slipped an arm behind her legs and around her middle, lifting her off the ground. “I can walk. I’m fine.”

“Do you know how many patients have claimed they felt fine, only to collapse when they got up?” Hunter raised his eyebrows at her. “The last thing we want is for you to take a tumble down the cliffs.” He peered back over his shoulder to make sure the others had made it through before he headed towards the cavern entrance. “Come on, princess. Let’s get you to your castle.” 

* * *

Hunter gently placed Lyra down on the bed, careful as to not disturb her slumber. He balanced his PDA on the table next to her and hooked up a few wires to her arm. “Rest easy,” he whispered, shifting a strand of hair from her face and covering her with a frayed blanket. The gentle breaths emanating from her lips deepened as she slipped further into her dreams, and he scanned the four readings split across the screen. Nothing abnormal or worrying until he returned his attention to the luminescent blue spheres. They weren’t causing her any discomfort by the looks of things, and her results revealed no traces of distress. Yet there they were. Pulsating. Alien. 

He shoved himself up from the edge of the bed and trod quietly back through the bulkhead, encouraging the heavy door shut to give Lyra some privacy while she slept. 

“How is she?” Cassidy asked, whirling from her spot by the fabricator at the sound of the doctor’s soft footsteps. “Do you know what those blue things are?” 

“She’s resting,” Hunter replied. “All of her life signs are normal and she doesn’t seem to be in any pain. It’s just a case of waiting for now.” He scratched at his head, his cracked nails catching the loose fibres of his bun. “As for the orbs, the scans all seem to suggest they are ocular transmitters.”

“Like eyes?” Samuel clarified. 

The physician nodded and slumped down in the seat by the window. Something crunched as he leaned his forearms on the glass table. He lifted them and cringed at the clumps of grit and dust clinging to his dive suit. “Sort of,” he muttered, grunting in irritation and swiping at the muck. 

“What do you mean sort of?” Marguerit challenged. “You’re a doctor, aren’t you? Surely you know what’s wrong with her.”

Hunter grumbled under his breath and tugged lightly at the earrings around his left ear. He was sure Marguerit didn’t mean to sound so brash. “Whatever happened to her, it has altered her biology,” he explained. “Only slightly, nothing worrying from the initial scans. The orbs on the side of her head seem to act as a second set of eyes, but they’re not like ours. I don’t know what they can see or if they’re even capable of sight.”

Cassidy glanced between Marguerit, Samuel, and Hunter. “So what do we do? Lyra is in no fit condition for travel, and we found nothing of Astrid in that facility.”

“We need to help her recover,” Hunter responded adamantly. “Once she’s better, we’ll work something out from there. For now, we should all get some rest. It’s not been a simple day and I’m sure we could all do with some sleep.”


	7. Close Call

Lyra tilted her head and gawked at the unfamiliar reflection in the mirror. The spheres glimmered in electric blue and flickered, sending their light traversing her cheekbones like an ocean waving across her features. She tried covering them, but the glow was insistent, burning through her fingers. 

Her dreams had left her depleted, plaguing her with visions of confinement and heart-wrenching loss. She’d woken hoping it had all been a nightmare. Looking at the strange woman staring back at her, daunting realisation settled in her soul. 

Chatter emanated from the compartment beyond the bulkhead, and she peered into the primary hub of the base to get a glimpse of her friends. Cassidy, Hunter, and Samuel huddled around the glass table, speaking quietly. Marguerit busied herself by the counter, slicing up a mixture of fruit. The fabricator sizzled beside her, driving the scent of fresh seaweed and fish into the room. 

She pushed open the door and the creak cut through the muffled whispers, words falling flat and their concern aimed straight at her. Her stomach sank and the anxious yearning to retreat into the little bedroom almost become too overwhelming to resist. 

“It’s good to see you up and about,” Hunter said. “Marguerit is making us some breakfast. Do you want some?” He patted the seat next to him and smiled at her as she accepted his invitation. “How are you feeling this morning?” 

“Fine,” Lyra shrugged. “Strange, but other than that, I feel okay.”

“If anybody wants more, there’s plenty,” the mercenary told them, placing a dish of Bulbo fruit chunks and Marblemelon triangles down with the rest of the breakfast buffet.

Lyra scooped a spoonful of each delicacy onto her plate and tucked into her meal, not realising how hungry she was. She delved into the fruits and lifted a forkful of food to her mouth, sensing the eyes of the room on her. “Is there something on my face?” she asked, peering at each of them and their guilty expressions before cracking a grin. Breaths of relief floated from their lips and nervous chuckles circulated, the tension that had hung over them like a veil beginning to lift. 

“Have you looked in the mirror yet?” Marguerit questioned, snagging a wedge of Marblemelon and picking out the seeds. 

“Yes, I’m aware of the weird glowing things on my head,” Lyra replied. She speared a piece of Bulbo fruit with her fork. “And before anybody asks, no, they don’t hurt. I can’t feel them.” 

“Back in the facility, you told us you heard a voice,” Cassidy reminded her. “The planet needed protecting, or something like that. Oh, what was it now?” 

“ _ ‘We must protect our planet at all costs’ _ ,” Lyra recounted, momentarily closing her eyes to recall what the Sea Emperor Leviathan had warned her. Her brow creased. “ _ ‘Greedy hands reach for the riches this planet nurtures, and whatever they can’t take, they will destroy’ _ .”

“Sounds like Alterra to me,” Samuel remarked. 

A buzz ran around the group, silent agreement ringing in the open. Their employers were ravenous, specifically for things they deemed profitable, and there weren’t above destroying what they couldn’t have so that others couldn’t benefit from it. 

“We don’t know for certain she was referencing Alterra,” Lyra reasoned. 

“She?” Hunter questioned. 

“The skeleton we found was of a Sea Emperor Leviathan. She was the one talking to me. She’s the reason for… these.” Lyra gestured to the two blinking orbs on her head. “My dad helped her when he was down here. I can see him sometimes, in her memories. He released the juveniles and cured the planet of Kharaa. I think-” She abruptly yelped and dropped her cutlery, the others jumping back at the sudden outburst. She twisted her hand over as a prickle ran across her left palm. A yellow substance bubbled on the surface, pulling itself from her skin and slowly expanding until it developed into a blossoming globule. 

Hunter stared agape at the golden liquid hovering in the air. “Is that Enzyme 42?” 

Lyra squeaked in fear and recoiled from the table. The stimulant splattered down onto the glass with nothing to contain it, some of it spilling across her wobbling plate. She shielded her mouth with her hands, heart thumping against her rib cage and tears shimmering in her eyes. “I can never go home,” she whimpered. “If Alterra find out about this, they’ll either use me or dissect me.” Her panic peaked, but she forced her breathing to slow. “You all need to leave.” She faced Marguerit, frantic and encouraging her desperation through each tremble. “Will you do something for me? Will you get my friends to safety?”

“We’re not abandoning you,” Hunter asserted. 

“Too right,” Cassidy agreed. 

Lyra looked to Samuel, hoping he’d be the voice of reason, but instead of wise words and a dose of reality, he offered her a tender smile. 

“Do you honestly think we’d just leave you here alone? Or let Alterra find you?” he said. “That’s not who we are and that’s not what we do to each other. We stick together through the good times and the bad.” 

“The Sea Emperor wants me to protect the planet,” Lyra insisted. “That doesn’t mean you should all get dragged into this too. This is my mess.”

“ _ Our  _ mess,” Samuel assured her. “You can try to force us out, but we’re not leaving you here alone.” 

Cassidy scrawled on a scrap of paper and slid it across the table to Marguerit. “These are the codes for the ship. You’ve held up your end of the bargain, so it’s time we did too.” 

The older woman pondered the scribbles before she snatched the crumpled strip, jabbing it into her pocket and rising from her seat. She took a moment to peer around the table at the courageous four before swiftly taking her leave. 

Hunter tapped idly on the side of his seat and clicked his tongue. “So,” he sighed, “what is our next move?”

“I’m not sure,” Lyra admitted, “but we can’t stay here for much longer.” 

* * *

The sand cooled as the evening settled in. The sun sank below the horizon and the moon’s influence tamed the day’s scorching temperature. 

Lyra walked barefoot and wiggled her toes in the golden grains, chuckling to herself as the tiny granules tickled the soles of her feet. It was strange to think she could smile here, considering this planet almost took her father and now her mother. But there was a grace to it, like an apology for the pain and a tonic for her unease. 

Hunter stretched as he strolled alongside her, hoisting his muscled arms above his head and groaning in the respite flooding through them. “It’s nice to get out of that base,” he said with a note of relief. “Far too small for four of us, but it makes me wonder what they used it for.”

“They were the quarters of Captain Brendan Hart,” Lyra replied. “There was a name on the wall of the bedroom so I looked him up. Had to ask Samuel for some help as they encrypted it, but we found out the captain died down here in a landslide six months ago.” 

“Classic Alterra cover up,” Hunter grunted, swaying his head. “I can’t say it surprises me.” 

Lyra approached the sweeping tide and dipped a toe in the water, braving the pricking chill as the ocean cooled. Luminescent fish swam in shoals in the shallows and darted around each other in a dizzying array of light, dashing away from the ripples about her ankles. 

“I’d love to go diving here,” the doctor said, his sun-speckled gaze grazing the dimming horizon. 

“That’s probably not the best of ideas,” Lyra admitted. “You may end up as some big ass monster’s lunch.” 

“Can you blame them?” Hunter gestured up and down at the toned physique he’d put on show in the heat, his shirt double-knotted around his middle. “I am an absolute snack.” 

Lyra’s jade-green eyes shot to him and she let out a barking laugh. She clutched onto to her stomach as though the amusement might burst from her if she didn’t keep it contained. “Did you honestly just say that?” she wheezed, wiping the tears from her lashes.

“You’re not denying it.” 

Lyra pursed her lips and breathed out heavily to ease the pinching in her ribs. She hadn’t laughed like that in some time, and she was grateful for the doctor’s jovial nature, especially at a time like this. 

“It’s sort of why I joined Alterra,” Hunter said, sitting himself down on the evening sands and stretching his legs out for the tide to wash over. “Growing up on the coast of Australia gave me a love of the sea, and the chance to explore alien seas? How could I pass up an opportunity like that?” 

“If you wanted to become a diver, why did you train to be a doctor?” Lyra asked. She plopped down beside him, tucking her legs beneath her. 

“When I was about seven, my dad left my mum. She worked tirelessly to ensure my little sister and I had everything we needed, but in my early teens she got ill. I’d never seen her so sick before, and the doctors weren’t sure if she would pull through. She spent months in the hospital, most of it in an induced coma.” Hunter hung his head and leaned back on his arms. “I went to visit her every day and seeing how the doctors took care of her inspired me to want to do the same. I wanted to help people like they’d helped my mum. That was more important than diving. I always hoped I might get some time off to come down here and go for a swim, but it never happened.” 

Lyra shuffled a little closer and folded her arms around him, planting her head on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Hunter, and I’m certain your mum is too.” 

“Thanks.” The doctor returned the embrace, giving her an extra tight squeeze before getting to his feet. He dusted down the dirt clinging to the hair on his legs before reaching down to help her up. “I found some nets when I was looking through the cupboards yesterday,” he said, pivoting her around to make sure they’d gotten rid of all the grains sticking to her. “We’re not exactly brimming with supplies, so it may be worth trying to catch some fish in the morning.” 

“Good idea,” Lyra agreed. She cast her gaze out at the ocean as Hunter plodded towards the base of the mountains, the first of the stars beginning to reflect in the alluring waters. An orange strip lit up the horizon as the last of the sun’s halo sank into the sea. In the distance, the light appeared to form around a figure, a head and a torso bobbing out of the water. As soon as she blinked it disappeared. “You definitely need some sleep,” she muttered to herself, checking the clear waters again just to be sure before following Hunter back up track. 

* * *

“Hold steady,” Cassidy yelled over the advancing deluge, wrenching on her side of the net as the bracing wind ripped across the lower cliffs. “We’ve got some. Lift it.” She and Hunter tugged on the flimsy metal webbing, straining their energies to reel it in. 

Lyra and Samuel made swift work of snatching the thrashing fish from their trappings and throwing them into the buckets behind them. 

“Cast again in three, two, one,” the pilot instructed. Hunter synchronised with her throw and she braced her feet on the grassy slush beneath her. The net twisted, caught by the wind before it could land back in the ocean and sagging down the cliffs. 

Lyra nimbly jumped down the shallow inclines, following the contorted metal twine to find the obstruction. “It’s hooked,” she yelled through the torrent of rain. “Keep a tight hold. I’ll get it.” She gently teased the strands off the pointed rocks and let each one go as she freed them. The bottom half of the net tumbled into the ocean with a splash. She climbed back up to her friends and clutched onto the edge of the large spread of mesh.

“Who’s idea was it to fish in a storm?” Samuel exclaimed. 

“It wasn’t like this when we started fishing,” Hunter reasoned. He yanked at the meshing and fought the forces trying to tear it from his grasp. 

“We should bring the net in and try again once the storm has passed,” Cassidy suggested. “It’s not safe.” 

The wind pushed at the sea and lifted the water in towering sheets before throwing it back down mere metres from their position. Lyra kept her attention fixed on the waves ahead and tracked where they touched down. Each one came closer than the last, beginning to splash up the lower rocks. “Cass is right,” she agreed. 

Hunter nodded. “Samuel, Lyra, you two get the buckets. Cassidy and I will…” He trailed off as a roaring gust of wind howled, drowning out his words. He resigned himself to silence and waved for them to get moving. 

A creaking sounded from behind them and Lyra swung round to see a seventy foot wave rolling across the surface of the ocean, heading straight towards them. “Run!” she shrieked. 

Hunter and Cassidy abandoned the net, and Lyra grabbed hold of Samuel. They pushed themselves back up the precipice, climbing and scrambling, supporting each other towards the ridges, but the wall of water was quicker. The surging flood wiped them clean over the edge of the cliffs and deposited them into the sea as it continued to invade the lower peaks of the mountains. 

Lyra felt the incisions on the side of her neck pulsate as they drew in oxygen. The blue orbs on her temples activated to clear her view under the waves. The others landed around her, sinking into the depths until they found their balance. Hunter splashed down closest to her, and she propelled herself through the rolling waters to join him. Shadows danced in the distance, and for a moment she thought them to be the angered sea raging above them. She spotted a forked tail swishing back and forth, and the obscured form moved closer. A piercing roar tremored through the ocean. As the beast came into view, she glimpsed red patterning along the body and four retracted mandibles snapping furiously. 

She trailed the monster's trajectory as it launched itself towards Hunter, opening her mouth to yell his name and taking in a mouthful of seawater instead. The liquid burned as it surged down her throat, but she held back a retched cough and forced herself forwards. She noticed him catch sight of the approaching danger and he instantly shot into action, pushing himself into motion. A sickening dread filled her stomach as she realised he’d never out-swim it. As the Reaper Leviathan reached him, she let loose an ear-splitting scream, releasing a power kept tucked in the deepest realms of her heart. Her second set of eyes intensified their light as the sound reverberated through the water. She couldn’t control it. Every atom of her being buzzed, each vein alight with an alien strength as it reacted to her hysteria.

The Reaper Leviathan didn’t give up the fight and turned its attention to her, coming within arm’s reach and screeching at her before she bolstered her attack. The creature recoiled and shrieked, crying out and fleeing as the raw force of her power chased it away. 

Hunter reached Lyra and clasped her tightly, the fright shining in his brown eyes. She signalled to him to ask if he was okay, and he nodded shakily. He gestured to her and she gave him a thumbs up before pointing to the surface above them. 

Another terrifying roar echoed from her left. Samuel and Cassidy pushed through the turbulent waves to reach each other, and a second Reaper Leviathan emerged from the misty waters. Its rippling form darted at speed towards the unsuspecting pair.

Before Lyra had time to act, multiple figures dropped into the water in bubbling, white pillars, melee weapons in hand and lithe bodies leaping into action from the foam. They surrounded the bulky beast and secured it with whip-like devices that coiled around its body. The monster’s movements halted in an instant. Their leader unclipped a glowing cube from his belt and pulled the rings on the side, launching it towards the Reaper. The group dispersed as the device hit and formed a blue sphere to surround the animal. 

Hands grabbed hold of Lyra and she struggled against the pressure, kicking out her legs and clawing at the arm clutching onto her. She tried to see what had captured her, but within seconds she was on the surface again. She coughed and spluttered into the sand, heaving up a lungful of water and dragging in shaky breaths. A pair of feet rested beside her, and she trailed her gaze up the humanoid figure. The tiny white speckles on his tanned face lit up in the sunlight struggling to break through the clouds, and his hair lay in a soaked, dark plait over his shoulder. Navy blue markings lined his cheekbones, and his shadowy eyes watched her curiously. What she found most alarming were the five tentacles sticking out of his lower back, like those of the Sea Emperors she saw in her stolen memories. 

He placed his weapon down on the ground beside him deliberately so as not to spook her further. He didn’t move from his position, and instead offered her his hands, like a forest guardian trying to coax a frightened deer towards him. When she remained still, he held his stance and smiled kindly. “It’s okay, you’re safe now,” he said in a voice so soft Lyra swore she felt it caress her cheeks. “Trust me.” 


	8. The Guardians

A wave of nausea crashed over Lyra as she found her balance. She swayed uneasily until the whirring spin stopped, held in place by the stranger. His touch on her elbows was cool yet gentle, granting her the space she needed but remaining close enough to catch her should she slip. He wasn’t as lofty now that she was upright and could see him properly, but he was easily over six foot in height. The sunlight dazzled across the pinnacle of his head and glimmered in the dark tresses braided over his shoulder. 

She inhaled deep, the air hissing through her open mouth to reach her lungs. A cough tickled at the back of her throat, but she grunted it away. “Who are you?” she asked, voice rasped and clashing against the crackle of salt water clinging to the roof of her mouth. 

“I do not think your kind have the vocal chords to pronounce my name, but I believe in your tongue it would be Siris,” he replied. 

Behind them, Samuel squeaked and crawled backwards as a female of Siris’s group tried to assist him. Hunter and Cassidy grabbed hold of him and dragged him to his feet, squaring up to the newcomers. 

Siris peered around at the commotion. He spoke in an unfamiliar language and motioned to the rest of the beach. After a brief exchange, the warriors stood back.

Lyra listened to them converse, struck by the fact they were probably the first humans ever to hear that dialect. The tones were like a wandering breeze, a natural rise and fall to the rhythm. Each syllable was delicate and defined as his mouth formed the elegant words. 

“I’m sorry,” Siris said, shifting back to the recovering woman. “I’m afraid this is rather new to us.” 

Lyra shook her head and waved his unnecessary apology away. “I think you could say my friends and I are in the same boat,” she assured him. Now that her dizziness had cleared, she could discern more of his face. The markings on his cheekbones were identical to hers, only his were much darker and more pronounced. His eyes were almost jet black like a starless night, but they bore a warming sparkle, the heavy eyebrows over them lifting in intrigue as she studied his features. 

She blinked and averted her gaze, scuffling backwards a step. Her cheeks coloured, and she scratched at her arm. “You speak our language,” she observed, breaking the awkwardness between them. “That’s impressive.” 

“My kind speak many languages,” Siris replied, a sliver of pride creeping into his soft tone. “We learn as much as we can from each species.” 

“You’ve met other humans?”

“Oh, no,” Siris chuckled. “We didn’t dare get too close, but we have observed your people and heard them talk. Our linguists distinguished the patterns, and we gained an understanding from that.” 

“Double impressive,” Lyra muttered. 

“So, what exactly are you?” Hunter asked with about as much tact as a foghorn. 

Siris rounded on him, the friendliness melting away as the bulky male approached him. The tentacles pouring out of his back bristled. “There is no sound for us in any language but my own,” he responded. If words could chill, he would have frozen Hunter on the spot. “I think it best to keep what we are a secret from you. Considering what your kind has done to our planet.” 

Lyra inched her way towards the doctor to stand by his side. “There is no need for hostility,” she said. “Why do you speak politely to me and not to my friends?”

Siris gestured to the subtle markings brandished onto her cheeks, his opposed stance withering by the second. “Because you are not like your friends.”

“She is like us,” Cassidy insisted. “How dare you say she isn’t?”

“We know more about this than you do.” Siris stood firm, sensing the eyes of the warriors on him and the rising tension. “We understand what has transpired, even if we don’t understand why.” 

“You can explain this?” Lyra breathed, vaguely waggling her fingers at the orbs on the side of her skull. 

Siris gave a singular, deliberate nod. “I can’t tell you everything because I’m not sure myself, but I’m aware of what happened.” 

Lyra's resolve swelled, and she strode towards him. “Tell me.”

“Not here.” Siris peered at the approaching grey clouds and the eclipsing sun as the second storm trampled in across the waves. “My city is close. There are people there who have more knowledge on the subject than I do.” He walked by them and into the shallows of the water, the other warriors slipping into the ocean behind him and sinking beneath the surface. The four humans remained on the beach, the dark-haired woman fiercely protecting her three companions. “Come,” he beckoned. “I shall keep you all safe, I swear it.” 

“I need to find out why this has happened,” Lyra told her friends, “but that doesn’t mean you have to come with me. You can turn back now if you’re not sure about this.” 

Cassidy took hold of Lyra’s hand and shrugged her shoulders. “We’ve come this far, right?” 

Samuel followed next, clutching her other hand. “I’m with you too.”

Lyra glanced back at Hunter.

The doctor threw her a stiff nod, his lips forced into a scowl. “I’m right behind you,” he assured her, and after a deep breath, followed them down the modest dip and into the watery depths. 

* * *

The anchor pods glimmered in electric blue as the supple forms entered the Grand Reef. In the water, Lyra noticed the camouflage of their rescuers better. Each figure disappeared as they passed through the shifting lights, glittering in and out of existence. Their exposed skin shimmered, absorbing the colours and patterns. She glided closer to Siris and noted the tracks of sunlight on his arms. The haze enveloped him like a misty morning fog, and his natural defences reacted. 

The group descended gradually and meandered through a shadowed canyon. Membrane trees studded the rock wall, waving listlessly as the disturbed water momentarily interrupted their peace. Lyra had seen many of these types of flora in the specimens lab, but watching them in their natural habitat, exactly where they belonged, put everything into perspective. Alterra ravaged and stole whatever they wanted, whatever they deemed necessary for their research. ‘No matter the means,’ she remembered one governor telling Professor Pearson. And she’d been a part of that. She’d handled those fragile fragments, cut them up and pored over them with indifference, without thinking about the impact on the life below. The planet had not given up those samples willingly, and the more those greedy hands took, the more devastating it would be for this innocent world. 

A surge of guilt swelled in her heart as they reached the other end canyon, and she beheld the greater depths of the ocean. How much of this remarkable realm would remain once Alterra had ripped up each stem and root? 

Siris tapped on her arm and signalled for her to keep up with him, drawing the assembly onwards as they plunged deeper into the Grand Reef. The sunlight quickly filtered away, leaving the illumination of the anchor pods to guide them. The warriors tamed their pace and fanned out to shield the way ahead. 

A systematic clicking reverberated through the water. The group came to a standstill. Calculated quivers ran down each tentacle as Siris’s warriors sensed the impending danger. Within seconds they dived into action. 

Siris seized hold of Lyra and hauled her behind a rock face, pressing a finger to his lips. He peeped around the stone to ensure his warriors had secured her friends. Satisfied by the emptiness that greeted him, he drew back. Beside them, a looming, bulbous creature skimmed by, two sets of gargantuan eyes unblinking and focused dead-set ahead. Siris held onto Lyra’s trembling arms to keep her still. The Crabsquid passed, clicking all the way, and once it had faded into the gloom overhead, Siris gave the signal to continue. 

It was slow-going and tiring for the four not adapted to this mode of travel, but eventually they reached a cave mouth, wading through it and onto dry terrain. The newcomers stumbled as they adjusted to the abrupt shift in conditions, but the warriors aided them in keeping their feet. 

Lyra removed her rebreather and tested the air before allowing her friends to remove their masks. 

“Stay close,” Siris instructed, striding on ahead. 

“Are we still in danger?” Lyra inquired.

“No, you will find no trouble here,” Siris promised. He offered her a friendly smile in assurance of her safety. “But the city is complex, and it is easy to get lost if you don’t know where you’re going.”

“City?” Hunter said. “This doesn’t look much like a…” 

The tunnel opened into a radiant metropolis of carven buildings and alien life. The centre established a swirling pattern and the outer sections formed delicate petals all around it. Lofty structures hewn from the same darkened rock that surrounded them jutted from the labyrinthine shaping, following the contours and sweeps of the exterior walls. Bridges sprang from all angles, uniting the outlying regions to the core. Anchor pods threw their vibrant blaze across the cave, mingling with the artificial orange glow radiating from the city windows. It was the polar opposite to the Architect constructions. Instead of rigid metal lines and shadows, these people had constructed a capital of affluent curves and grace, like a summer garden built from stone.

They descended the roughly hewn staircase and onto a spacious bridge that allowed them to spread out their ranks. Saturated pools of purple light flickered from the beacons and coloured the boundaries of the walkway lilac. Plantlife peeked from the edges of the rock and bloomed in hazy shades of pink, awoken by the muffled whisper of life wandering by and returning to their slumber once they’d passed. 

“Have you always lived down here?” Lyra questioned, marvelling at every detail that flitted past her jade eyes. She found it hard to believe that something so beautiful and so enormous had gone undiscovered by Alterra, but she was glad of it; the stars above only knew what the governors would do if they found this place. 

“Did the Sea Emperor not mention my people?” Siris replied. 

Lyra sensed the slight discouragement in his voice and tracked the downward slope of his glance as she shook her head in response. “I don’t think she had time. Her soul was weak.” She tried to search through the creature’s memories for something of this wondrous place and the inhabitants, but nothing leapt from the timid recesses of her mind. If the majestic creature’s spirit was within her, it was hiding. “You could always tell me,” she suggested. “I’m guessing we still have a way to go yet.”

Siris’s demeanour lifted again, and the corners of his lips pulled into an eager grin. “My people are the distant relatives and guardians of the Sea Emperors,” he explained, his voice taking on a wistful air as he recounted the tale. “Over time, they adapted to the vast ocean, whereas we conformed to the caves, but we remained loyal to our shared blood. Their gentle yet stern nature earned them the status of kings and queens of the tide, and we were their devoted knights.” He puffed out his chest and delighted in the tender giggle he got from Lyra. “When the Architects came and brought their disease with them, everything changed. Our once peaceful ecosystem became savaged. Many fell ill and died. When they kidnapped the Sea Emperor you discovered, my kind attacked. She was our queen, and precious to us, but our enemies retaliated with weaponry far superior to ours. They thought they’d wiped us out, but some of my kind hid in the caverns where they wouldn’t find us. We resigned ourselves to the caves and built our cities here for safety. We made many attempts to get into the facility, but we found our way blocked by their technology.” 

The city welcomed them in as they arrived at the western rim, and Lyra imagined the last of Siris's species hiding within the splendour, terrified for their lives. Even such beauty could not remedy a fear that deep. 

“We rejoiced to discover that some Sea Emperor eggs had survived and hatched,” Siris continued. “There was news that a brave soul had set them free and they'd cured the planet of the disease.” 

“Yes, Ryley is a brave soul,” Hunter interjected behind them. “A  _ human _ soul and Lyra’s father.”

Siris’s head fluttered to the woman beside him, her smile sheepish and her cheeks colouring a rosy shade of pink. “No wonder she chose you to inherit her powers,” he murmured, but it was loud enough for Lyra to hear. 

“What do you mean?” she asked. 

“The Sea Emperor hasn’t told you anything? Nothing at all?”

She shook her head. “Not really.” 

“The Sea Emperor in that facility was thousands of years old, and with age, they gain the ability to transfer their energy and knowledge to other sentient beings. But they are careful with their process. They’d rather their power die with them than pass it onto the wrong individual.” Siris’s warriors marched on ahead. “They usually give it to one of their own, but our queen chose you.”

* * *

Siris opened the door and gestured for the four visitors to enter the apartment, standing dutifully aside as they took in the spacious room. “You can stay here for as long as you need,” he told them. 

“All of us?” Hunter quipped, peering back at him from the far-reaching bay window. 

Siris bowed his head in humility. “I apologise for what I said earlier. Your people have taken things from our planet that they shouldn’t, leaving nothing but ruin in their path. I spoke out of frustration, and I’m sure in time you will show my kind that destruction does not exist within all of you.”

Hunter’s scowl softened, and he conceded with a nod, angling back to the city beyond the window. Siris had granted them a suite in the heart of it, above the hubbub and yet in the perfect place to watch it all. The glow that had lit their way was fading slowly to recreate the natural turn of the day, and the only light he had to see by were the anchor pods sprouting around the cavern. The clamour of lithe figures they’d ventured through to get to the apartment complex was trickling away, the pleasant orange blooms from each building dimming with each fleeting minute. 

“I hope you can forgive me,” Siris added.

Hunter grunted under his breath. He glimpsed Lyra in the corner of his eyes as she placed a warm hand on his arm. He covered it with his own and gave her slim, delicate fingers a gentle squeeze. She didn’t need to say a word. He could feel the comfort radiating from her. 

“Thank you for your kindness and your hospitality, Siris,” she said, turning from the brooding doctor to approach their host. 

Siris answered her gratitude with a gracious grin. “If you require anything, I’ll be downstairs.” 

His footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Lyra shut the door behind him. She kept her hand pressed against the detailed wood for a second longer before she returned to the rest of the room. The swollen air buzzed. “We’ll be safe here,” she assured them. “Safer than we would be out there at any rate.” 

“I’m not sure about all this.” Samuel huddled himself by the sideboard, shoulders hunched to make himself look smaller. His mumbled words didn’t go unheard. 

Cassidy seemed to share his sentiment. Her eyes flickered from the man slumped by the far wall and sank to the deep purple rug.

“What do you suggest we do?” Hunter challenged. “We can’t survive out there on our own, and there’s no way we can return to Alterra. They’ll take one look at Lyra and cart her off to the labs.” 

“They wouldn’t,” Samuel replied. 

“You’re an idiot if you genuinely believe that.”

“Hunter,” Cassidy chided. 

“I’m right, Cass,” the medical man threw back. He dragged himself from the window and swung around. “This isn’t just a case of keeping Lyra safe. We’re all fugitives now. It’s all our heads on the block.” 

“You’ve changed your tune,” Samuel sneered, shoving himself off of the wall. “Only moments ago you were rolling your eyes and grunting at Siris like a petulant child, and suddenly you’re fine with staying?”

“No, I’m not, but tell me, how do you propose we survive out there on our own with monsters around every corner?” the doctor spat. “We haven’t exactly been doing a superb job of it up to now. So, go on. You’re the clever one, right? Knows it all? Tell me where we’d be safer.” He raised an eyebrow and awaited an answer. The seconds ticked on in silence. “Didn’t think so, smart arse.” 

Lyra stood stock still by the mirror as the quarrel continued, staring at the pale and wearied face looking back at her. Jade eyes bloodshot. Smudges atop her cheekbones. Lank hair drooping like sodden ribbons. The orbs glittered. Her fault. This was her fault. All of it. Tears crept over her bottom lashes and trickled free. She didn’t bother trying to stop them. Each droplet was a reminder of her failings, of her impatience and her cursed curiosity. They shouldn’t have gone into the containment aquarium. She shouldn’t have allowed them to join her at all. She should have insisted they stay on the Juno station, where they’d be far away from danger. 

A rasp rose through her throat, compelling her to breathe again, and she choked back a sob. Her chest collapsed in on itself and she had to steady herself on the sideboard to remain upright. She couldn’t do this. They had to go. She needed her friends safe. She could never live with herself if something happened to them. 

“Lyra?” 

Cassidy was by her side in an instant, propping her up and taking her weight from the chest of drawers. She wrapped her in her arms and hushed her against her shoulder. “It’s all right, we’re here.” 

Lyra sobbed against the pilot, gripping onto her as tightly as she could. “I’m so sorry,” she coughed out, before a second tremulous cry surged through her lips. “This is… this is my fault…” She felt another pressure squeeze against her side, and Samuel placed his head tenderly by hers as he hugged her. 

“We made the choice,” he whispered. “You are not to blame.” 

Cassidy let go of the sobbing woman and waved an arm towards Hunter. “Get in on this, Doctor Kelly, before I drag you over here,” she told him, her expression turning apologetic. She drew him into the group hug as he plodded across the room. 

He wound his long, muscled arms around all three of them, earning himself a couple of shaky chuckles. He placed a light kiss on each head, moving from Cassidy to Lyra, and finally Samuel before grasping them in a firm embrace. “I’m sorry for arguing with you both like that,” he said. “I don’t like the situation any more than you do, but it doesn’t excuse my outburst.”

“You’re forgiven,” the pilot told him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. 

“And for the record,” Samuel asserted, “I may be a smart arse, but I’m your smart arse. You are all stuck with me for life.”

The group broke into subdued laughter. 

“There’s no denying that,” Hunter chuckled, loosening his grasp on his friends and ruffling Samuel’s hair. 

This time Samuel didn’t flinch away or swat at his hand and instead accepted the token of affection. “You’ll get bored with doing that one day, and my hair will stay as it should,” he commented, flattening the golden strands back into place where they’d strayed onto the undercut. 

Hunter scrunched up his face in feigned thought, tapped at his chin, and shook his head. “Never.” 


	9. Heartbeats

Lyra’s distorted reflection shifted in the glossy dark marble of the council hall floor. Her nails scraped the length of her palm as she fidgeted, streaking angry red marks along her skin. 

Five high-backed seats lay bare at the foot of the rock steps, upon which many of the city’s most powerful observed her. Their clothing shimmered in the white lights arranged across the panelled walls, an array of bronze and gold trim glittering against the sable stone. Some, Lyra noticed, were wearing darkened coronets inlaid with opals and pearls. She almost instinctively shrunk back in their presence. Siris hadn’t told her much when he’d collected her from their apartment that morning, only that the council required to meet with her at once. She hadn’t expected to be a spectacle for the upper-class members of their population. 

The side door creaked open. Three women and a man joined them, their forms moving elegantly towards the chairs. Their deep robes swirled around them like a tide enrapturing their bodies, the metallic patterning of the hems catching in the sheen of silvery pools. They took their places at the head of the assembly and the chamber hushed. 

“Welcome all,” the councilwoman bathed in violet and gold announced in a soothing, lyrical tone. Her inky gaze glided to the stranger. “Especially you. Siris tells me your name is Lyra. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Lyra replied. She couldn’t have sounded more like a mouse if she’d tried. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Annis. My colleagues are Navine and Mella, and the man on the end is Hiro. I’m afraid our fifth councillor, Neres, isn’t able to join us today.” Annis examined the youthful woman. She could have seen twenty-six summers at the most, a tender age to have received such a power as the one now coursing through her. “Is it all right if we ask you some questions? Given the situation, I’m sure you can understand our curiosity.”

Lyra nodded. The male councillor, Hiro, scribbled something on the tablet in his lap, the stylus waving along the screen. Had little Poseidon felt like this when she’d leaned down at his aquarium? Had he watched her scrawling her observations on his behaviour, wondering what she was writing? 

“You work on the ships above the planet. Is that right?” Navine questioned, poising herself to write on the tablet she’d balanced on the arm of her chair. She shoved her bony shoulders back and tilted her head, elongating her already long neck. 

“Yes,” Lyra answered. “I mean, I did. I don’t think I’d be welcome there now.” 

“What was your role there?” Mella asked. 

“I was a junior researcher.” 

“Elaborate.” Hiro’s words were sharp, like a command more than a curious venture. Even her superiors on the Juno station had never spoken to her in such a ruthless manner. 

Lyra swallowed and inhaled steadily to appease the fervent thud of her heart. _ Breathe _ . Her fingertips tingled as though she’d stuffed them in a bucket of static, and her palms stung where she’d clawed at them earlier.  _ Breathe _ . Each instinct she had howled at her to run. _ Breathe _ . But it wasn’t her voice she heard encouraging her to settle. It was pacifying. Lulled. The Sea Emperor Leviathan Siris had called their queen. “I served in the laboratory where I processed the samples coming in and studied them,” she responded. “It was my responsibility to record how the creatures in our care acted and to test the plantlife for unique attributes. We wanted to know how life here worked.” And what was valuable, she left unspoken. 

“By taking what wasn’t yours,” Mella commented. A few of the elite representatives of their society hummed in agreement behind her. 

“While I didn’t take those samples myself, I will accept some responsibility for their removal,” Lyra admitted. “I don’t agree with what they’re doing, but I did nothing to stop them.” 

Annis’s eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you remain with them? If you didn’t agree with their methods, surely you could have withdrawn from your position?”

_ Tell them _ , the Sea Emperor sovereign whispered into her consciousness. “That big ship in your ocean?” Lyra said, gesturing behind her as though she knew which way the wreckage of the Aurora lay. “My father was on board when it crashed. He was the only survivor, and after many trials here, he found the Sea Emperor Leviathan in an Architect aquarium. He helped her hatch her eggs and set the little ones free. Unfortunately, when he returned to Alterra, they slapped him with a rather heavy debt for the resources he’d used to survive. I only stayed with the company to help him pay off those debts quicker.” 

“Our oracles heard a name,” Hiro told her, scrutinising her closely and sitting up in his seat. “They claim the freed Sea Emperor children whispered it to them before they scattered across the planet.” 

“Ryley Robinson,” Lyra said on impulse. The councillors stared at her, awestruck, and faint murmurs arose behind them. 

Shame overtook her. She could almost see him, worried, frantic, and alone. Pacing their apartment, or quarrelling with the governors. What had she done to him? What would he do now that the planet had potentially claimed his wife and his only child? 

The bangles on Annis’s wrists jangled as she rose from her seat, the sweet twinkling following her footsteps. Her fair features softened as she neared the outsider in their midst. “The blood you share with the man who freed the juveniles may explain recent events,” she mused. “Did the Sea Emperor speak to you at all?”

“She talked of greedy hands reaching for things that weren’t theirs and that the planet needed protecting.” Lyra hesitated. Should she tell them about the woman?  _ Trust them _ . This time the whisper held a chill, and she shuddered. “She also mentioned someone in the cold who may need help.”

“Has she communicated anything to you recently?” Mella inquired. “For example, over the past few days?” 

“Yes.” 

“What did she say?”

“Just a few seconds ago, she told me to trust you.”

“And do you?”

Lyra glimpsed Siris out of the corner of her eyes before fixating on the line of councillors. She could sense the emotions thrumming within them, feel Annis’s curiosity and kindness and Navine’s growing boredom as though the sentiments were her own. But something snapped at the back of her mind. An awareness of disgust. Of hatred. She pinpointed it to the two central seats, Mella and Hiro perched between the curved arms. The revulsion simmered around them like a mist, noxious and reaching its slimy fingers towards her. 

“Answer us,” Mella demanded. 

“You have not given me a reason to doubt you,” Lyra replied, careful of her words. “I suppose in this situation, it is more a case of whether you trust me.” She cocked an eyebrow and attempted to home in on the awakening senses, but just as swiftly as they’d materialised, they evaporated again. 

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Annis asked, pacing the floor between the streams of water trickling through the thin channels in the midnight stone. 

Lyra shook her head. 

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.”

Mella let out a noise of outrage and shot up, chest heaving with each breath she drew. Fury fluttered across the dark abyss in her eyes. “Do you not understand the severity of the situation?” she hissed. “Our queen has given  _ you _ her powers instead of one of us. If you refuse to hand over the information we seek, we have ways of extracting it and we will-” 

“You shall do no such thing, councillor.”

Heads turned to the compelling voice. An elderly woman in sage green and rose gold robes strode into the hall, ashen hair piled atop her head and held in place by a row of peacock pearls. Her glassy eyes set steadfastly on the councillors. They shrank in her presence and sank onto their knees. Siris dropped to his knee too, and the others in attendance bowed low. 

“I apologise, oracle,” Mella quivered. “I never meant-”

“Oh, be quiet,” the imperial woman ordered, taking scope of the room and ensuring everybody remembered their place before approaching their esteemed visitor. “Don’t you dare think of bowing. The power you possess does not bow to me.” 

Lyra tried to form a sound, but each time she faltered. She cleared her throat and compelled herself to respond. “You’re like me,” she breathed, almost delirious as she gestured to the identical orbs pulsating on the side of the woman’s temples. 

“In a way I am,” the seer responded. “I wager you are feeling many things right now.” She beckoned away any attempt Lyra made at replying. “No need to waste your breath. I know, I can sense it all racing through you like a hunting Reaper.” She chuckled to herself and dipped her head. “I am Deema. I am the prime oracle of the city and I have waited for this day for longer than I care to admit.” She cupped Lyra’s face tenderly and beamed like a grandmother reuniting with her beloved grandchild. Her bright demeanour shifted as she surveyed the rest of the room again. The hospitable smile slipped into an unimpressed frown and her eyebrows lowered until a sharp crease pushed at the faint wrinkles on her forehead. “What are you all still doing here? Leave. If you’re searching for a spectacle, go to the amphitheatre.” 

The room cleared within seconds, the four councillors blundering through the back door by the thrones and the others filtering out through the side exits. Some scampered, picking up their pace as they arrived at the bottom of the stone seats and making themselves scarce. 

“Not you,” Deema said, snatching hold of Siris’s leather armour as he tried to shuffle by her. “Did I not tell you that in situations like this you were to come and get me first?” 

Siris grinned sheepishly and scuffled his feet. “I’m sorry, auntie.” 

“You must have an excuse for it,” the oracle pressed, signalling for him to air it. 

“Lyra and her friends were spotted entering the city with us. I tried to travel discreetly, but someone saw. I alerted the council before they had the chance to so I could monitor the situation myself.” 

Deema let out a short hum, not completely satisfied but willing to drop the matter in favour of something much more important. She glared a moment longer at her nephew before she returned to Lyra. “Do not worry, child, you will come to no harm here. The councillors shall not hurt you, not unless they want to anger the fates. I am giving Siris the responsibility of taking good care of you and your friends.” She patted her arms and headed for the double doors. 

“Is that it?” Lyra asked, swivelling around to follow the elderly woman’s path. 

“What do you mean?” the seer replied. 

“Can you not help me with these powers? Or guide me in the right direction?” 

Deema laughed and doubled back, taking hold of Lyra’s hands. “My dear, this is not something you can learn from a book or from wisdom like mine. You grow into it. It is something you experience and gain a personal understanding of. The power is yours now, to shape as you will. Our queen has already told you what you need to do, hasn’t she?” 

“I suppose,” Lyra pondered, “not that any of it makes sense.” 

“Trust her, and trust yourself,” Deema instructed. “You’ll get there in time.” 

* * *

“I apologise for the council’s behaviour,” Siris said, cutting through the silence that had accompanied their journey down from the assembly chamber. “They’re desperate for answers.” 

“So desperate that the moment someone tells them they don’t have any information, they resort to threats of torture,” Lyra voiced. “Are they prone to such severe intimidation, or am I a rare case?” 

Siris swallowed and edged towards speaking his mind before he exhaled. “It is not only you they have treated so poorly,” he spoke, his usual soft tone solemn. “My guards and I work for the oracles, not the council. We aren’t privy to their secrets, but there has always been talk of them turning to questionable means before exhausting all their options.” He scratched at the back of his neck and slowed his pace so she could keep up with his strides. “They should not have threatened you like that, but please believe that I would never let them harm you or your friends.” 

“I know,” Lyra assured him. “Since we arrived, I’ve been able to sense the Sea Emperor’s energy more. There’s an aura of trust about you. Same with Deema. When she walked into the hall, it was as though a kindred spirit had entered the room.” 

“That is reassuring.” Siris ruminated on a thought before airing it. “You said she spoke to you about the councillors. The Sea Emperor, I mean.”

Lyra peered down at the pattered stone beneath her feet. Shades of yellow, and pink, and purple formed flowers in bloom, twined together by the green vines winding down the central path of the courtyard. Running alongside the walkway, real flora sprouted from verdant grass. “All she told me was to trust them and tell them what she’d said to me. But she sounded cautious. More like I should act as though I trust them but be wary.” Mella’s threats prickled in her ears, and had Deema not intervened, she dreaded to think of what could have happened to her. Siris may have tried to protect her, but he was only one man. Everybody has their limits. The last thing she wanted to was to widen an already tumultuous gap in their society. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give them more information. I understand it must frustrate them to know the Sea Emperor’s power has gone to me. Especially after everything my kind has done.” 

“The fault does not lie with you. The council thinks they rule all, but it is more complicated than that. Most listen to the oracles over the councillors, and the divided loyalty annoys them. But what can they expect? The oracles are compassionate and understanding. Naturally people would choose them over rulers who reign with a heavy hand and a bitter heart.” Siris realised he was rambling and let out a self-conscious breath. “I’m talking more than I should.”

“Talk as much as you like,” Lyra encouraged. “I don’t mind.” 

His eyebrows rose, and his mouth parted. “I… uh… I’m usually told to shut up,” he said, the corner of his lips lifting and his pointed ears rotating slightly upwards. “It gladdens my hearts to have someone who genuinely wants to listen.” 

Lyra took in the elation and made to invite him to speak more before his words caught up with her. “Wait, did you say hearts? As in plural?”

“My people possess two hearts,” Siris answered. He halted just beyond the courtyard gates and held his hands out to her. “Here.” He guided her fingers to his rib cage and pressed on them so she could feel the whispers of his soul for herself. 

Dual pulses glided across her palms, one and then the other, rolling the life-giving beats between each organ. Each thrum felt like a caress, pushing Siris’s chest gently into her hands. “I have a lot to learn about your people,” she confessed. 

“I will help you, and I’m sure my aunt will too.” 

Lyra let her arms slide away from him, unsure of whether the pulse in her palm was her own or the remnants of Siris’s hearts singing across her skin. “What’s the plan now?” she asked, moving again towards the core of the metropolis. “Do I need to speak to the oracles?” 

“Only if you want to. You’re free to do as you wish, although I would recommend staying for the Festival of the Sea Emperor. It’s a spectacular time of the year with feasts and a ball.” 

“Sounds like fun,” Lyra admitted, “but I must talk it over with my friends. Whatever decisions we make, we make them together.” 

“I understand.” 

There was something pensive in Siris’s tone, something her new senses picked up on rather than her old ones. She glimpsed his aura for a brief second, green and purple wisps floating around him and pulsating about his form. A stray tendril drifted towards her, curling slowly and timidly until the entire vision faded.  _ Learn to see with my eyes too _ , the Sea Emperor whispered into the depths of her mind.  _ They will tell you all you need to know _ . 

* * *

Lyra kept to the less populated areas as she drifted the outskirts. Steep declines tracked where the water trickled in from the cave ceiling, and ponds opened up at various points to catch the falling droplets. Some of them formed rivers, driving the current back out into the ocean. Across them, leaping walkways linked each break in the land. On her way there, Siris had told her about the technology that barred the sea from flooding the city, and she’d listened, intrigued, to his explanations of the pulses and shields that allied together to keep them safe and dry. According to her guide, they might glimpse the shimmer of the protective screens at night, rippling upwards and along the rocky trails above. 

He had left her after being summoned back to the temple, and she’d taken to wandering the quieter regions of the abundant place. Away from the stares and the prying eyes, she found some peace in her solitude. On the outer edges, the vegetation bloomed. Flowers she’d never seen sprouted from the fractures in the cavern wall, slanting their pastel shades and blazing as she neared them. The tentative flicker turned into glittering rays of neon colours. Apologies crossed her mind. She’d watched their friends cut up and stored in cold boxes, even chopped them and packed them herself without a thought. With this in mind, she had a hunch as to what the Sea Emperor meant by protecting the planet, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to accomplish it. 

Lyra reached out to the lilac fronds waving at her and halted when they retreated, slinking into their dark sanctuaries in the stone. “It’s okay,” she murmured to them. The illumination cast by her new set of eyes waved across the wisps of undulating purple and they seeped back out of the fissure, inch by tentative inch. 

She left them and settled down by the short waterfall gushing water down into the flooded ravine. The fish here were miniscule, no bigger than her little finger, trailing their multicolour glow as they zipped through the water. As she watched them, almost envious of their stress-free lives, her thoughts strayed to her friends. When she’d left them that morning, Siris had brought in a tailor to make them new diving suits. She could imagine them surrounded by fabric, encouraging each other to pick out the best patterns and styles. She closed her eyes and pictured Hunter strutting around the shared living space of their apartment in a new suit, pouting and eliciting more than a few laughs from Cassidy and Samuel. The image changed, darkness settled, and she saw them facing a menacing beast with no way of escape, the jaws of some titanic monster sealing around them until she couldn’t see them anymore. 

She exhaled slowly, refusing to let her insecurities win, and retrieved her PDA from her pocket. With everything that had taken place, she needed a fail-safe. There was no path back for her now, but that didn’t mean that if they found themselves in a critical situation, her friends wouldn’t have a way to safety. The hours passed in contemplative silence as she jotted down ideas on the blank document. Some she scribbled out with a huff, mulling over her options. After taking any potential obstacles into consideration, she keyed in their ship’s code and hoped that the new owner was still with it, wherever she may be. She waited for the pinwheel to turn into a tick. It span in a dizzying circle before a red banner appeared below the message. After a few seconds, the digital wheel rotated again as the device refused to give up after just one try. She left it to spin. Whatever happened, she had to keep Samuel, Cassidy, and Hunter safe, even if that meant securing their freedom without their knowledge and sending them unknowingly towards it when the time came. 


	10. Little Blossom

The Temple of the Oracles dominated the western province. Ancient, ivory architecture rose in valour, carried aloft by the rocky incline. The exterior boasted an elegance and pomp, like a Greek Olympian flexing his muscles to the adoring crowd. No other construction could compare. 

Within it, the reverent silence crept into Lyra’s bones. The spacious entrance gallery hummed in the quiet, and the sprawling glass roof let in the artificial light from outside, dappling the cracked floor blue. The braziers between the imposing figures on either side of her still contained the scorched wood and ash from the night before. Darkened powder sifted through the gaps and scattered beneath them where it had slipped free. The stale smoke and the scent of something akin to lavender stung her nose. 

She paused by an effigy of a knight. His head was helmeted, and he hid his fists behind him, shoulders squarely set like a soldier on parade. Rivets of gold rivers ran along his armour, setting the pale stone alight. All the other statues in the row mimicked him, with their arms locked at their tails and their posture proud. She followed the line of loyal knights to their ruling lady, stood in splendour at the end of the long row. The chiselled mineral of her dress flowed down to the ground to cover her feet, sheets of golden armour layered over her bodice. Her carven hair rested in loose waves. She extended her hands to the visitors as though they could reach out and climb up to her. At her back, the wall dipped downwards into a brief curve and lifted again at the top. The artificial glow shimmered in through the geometric glass in an azure halo sprouting from her curls. 

“That is Viven,” Siris said, reverence in his expression. “The first guardian of the Sea Emperors and mother of our people. The oracles used to tell me about her when I was a child.”

“She’s beautiful,” Lyra breathed, admiring the cut of her armour and the gentleness of her expression. Stories shimmered within this bright spirit, yearning to burst free. 

“The people of her time made the statue after she died,” Siris continued. “Some believe that their love for her was so strong it called her soul back to them and that she lives in the sculpture, watching over us all.”

“That’s all superstitious nonsense,” Deema declared from behind them, approaching from the adjoining corridor. She beamed at Lyra before swinging her scrutiny to her nephew. “Have you finished your duties for the day?” she asked, knowing the answer before he swayed his head. “Then what are you doing here? I’m sure your charge can take care of herself for a few hours.” 

“Yes, oracle.” Siris thumped his fist on his chest and headed back down the lengthy path, chancing a quick peek over his shoulder before he hurried on his way. 

Deema waited until he’d passed through the archway at the other end and returned to her guest. “He has grown quite fond of you,” she teased, delighting in the mild blush crossing Lyra’s cheeks. “He’s asked you to stay for the Festival of the Sea Emperor, hasn’t he?” 

“Yes,” Lyra responded. 

“Have you and your friends decided?”

“We have. After talking it over, we agreed we’d like to stick around for the celebrations. We could do with something joyous after… after everything that’s happened.” 

“I’m sure you will all enjoy it.” Deema crossed the few steps between them, her hands clasped over her abdomen, just as her superiors had taught her as an Initiate. The gesture was as much a part of her now as her devotion to them. 

Apprehension teemed from the young life beside her, and she let her powers wander. “Forgive me for prying,” she said, “but there is something bothering you, isn’t there?” She pondered for a moment, digging a little further. “Your father.” She waited again to test the waters. Deema did not enjoy using her gifts to invade people’s privacy, but Lyra’s mind was wailing, and it was too potent to ignore.  _ She will have to learn to control that _ , the experienced oracle contemplated. “I have never seen the face of the man who saved our world before, but I can see him in your thoughts now.” 

Lyra had tried to force the thought of her betrayal away for weeks, preoccupying herself with tasks and focusing on her friends. But in the silence, when she was alone, her regrets crept in. “Before I left, I recorded a message for him, but I don’t know if I should send it. I went behind his back, put him in a hideous position. I haven’t found my mother like I set out to do, so I have nothing to show for my deception.” 

Deema felt the devastation as though it was her own, the shocks of anguish, and fury, and frustration hitting her one after the other with no mercy. She reigned in her powers and allowed the woman the space she needed to talk. 

“I doubt she’s even still alive. I got caught up in all of this and now it’s too late.” Lyra swallowed down the all too familiar knot in her throat, but it wouldn’t budge. It remained a constant reminder of her actions. 

“Why do you not wish to send the message?” Deema inquired. Her ageing bones ached, and she perched herself down on the steps beside Viven’s sculpture. 

“I have hurt him beyond forgiveness,” Lyra answered. “An apology won’t make a difference. Considering everything that’s happened, perhaps it’s better for him to despise me.” 

“Your father does not despise you,” the seer insisted, refusing to let her believe such a notion. “He may feel sorrow in his soul, but I am certain he does not harbour any hatred towards his only daughter. You set out to bring your family back together, did you not?”

“Yes.”

“How can he hate you for that?” 

Lyra tried to respond, but in her heart Deema’s words rang true. Her father undoubtedly understood she hadn’t taken this upon herself to hurt him. She just wanted her mother returned to them. But there would always be that scar of what she’d done and the pain she’d put him through. She couldn’t escape that. 

“Send your apology,” Deema advised. “Begin building that bridge to him.” 

* * *

“ _ Hey, it’s Pearson. I looked into that anomaly for you, but there’s nothing unusual coming up in the recordings. There might be something the initial scans missed, so I’m double checking them. I’ll get in touch when they’re done. _ ” 

The answering machine beeped that drawn out drawl that Ryley detested but couldn’t change. He smacked his palms into the wooden sideboard and hung his head, lengths of hair that needed cutting months ago quivering over his eyebrows. When he’d discovered the isolated readings coming from that viperous planet, he’d convinced himself it had something to do with Lyra and filled his heart with hope. “Fool,” he cursed, fingers curling into fists. “Stupid, ridiculous fool.” 

The triangle pulsated red, ready to release more news. Part of him wanted to leave it, to let it flash away as much as it liked because he would not listen to any more unfavourable reports. But he wasn’t a man who surrendered his responsibility. Whatever messages awaited him, it was better he found out now than later. 

“ _ Next message. _ ”

“ _ I hate to bring you this, but the board has extended your suspension. I tried to talk them round, but they outvoted me. Not even supposed to be contacting you with this, but I thought it best you were told so you can prepare for the hearing on Friday. I just… I’m sorry. I know this isn’t your fault, but if there’s anything- _ ”

Ryley jabbed the square button on the machine and cut off the sympathetic words of support. He’d suspected as much from the governors, but hearing it from the one man he trusted on this corrupt station hurt more than he cared to admit. 

He tensed his jaw to force back a creeping yawn. Sleep had come at infrequent intervals these past few months. He spent most nights wide awake, wrestling with his mind, and his days since his suspension shuffling around the muted apartment. On the odd occasions he caught a few hours of rest, his dreams tormented him. A recurring dream had seen him trapped in the Sea Emperor Leviathan’s aquarium. Her voice prickled in the parts of his memory he wanted to keep concealed, that strangely consoling tone reaching him from hundreds of miles away. He hadn’t been able to discern what she was saying, but it coaxed him and gripped him tight. He’d spotted Lyra sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed where the gigantic creature had lain in death. The fish swum by her as though she wasn’t there. A cog in their ecosystem. He’d paddled closer. Her lashes created elongated stalks on her pale cheeks like claw marks prying open her skin, and no bubbles slipped from the corners of her mouth. Flat, undisturbed sand spread beneath her, her body a projection, not flesh and blood. He’d tried in vain to wake her, shaking her, shouting, screaming into the void, knowing that each time he yelled he wasted more oxygen, but she wouldn’t stir. Upon rousing from his nightmare, he found his mind preoccupied with that image of his little girl asleep and alone in that frightful place. Why was she there? Why would she not move?  _ It’s a dream _ , he told himself, clinging to his sanity.  _ Nothing more _ . 

He was dozing at the dining table when his computer pinged, the twinkling noise jarring him from his hazy drifting. He shot awake. The chair legs slammed back onto the linoleum floor and his chest connected with the corner of the table. Grunting under his breath and rubbing his upper abdomen, he pushed himself out of his seat and traipsed into the office. The screen illuminated his desk and left the rest of the room in shadow. He collapsed into the rolling chair and tapped at the green button until the message opened. 

“ _ Hey, dad. _ ”

Ryley’s mind snapped to attention the moment his daughter’s voice lilted through the speakers, small and timid but unmistakably hers. “Little blossom… are you there? Can you hear me?” He searched her fragile face. A recording. That’s all it was. A fragment of the past coming to taunt him further. 

“ _ I’m not sure if you’ll ever see this, but I needed to record it. If I get to 4546B successfully, the consequences will fall back on you. Won’t bother explaining why I’m doing this because you know. Doesn’t mean it’s right or that I… _ ” Lyra composed herself. Tears dappled her bottom lashes like the rainwater that used to nestle in them when she splashed about in puddles as a child. Oh, how she’d laughed before her grandmother reprimanded her. “ _ I’m sorry, dad. This isn’t what I wanted. _ ” The camera wobbled. Her nails scratched against the microphone as she adjusted her grip on her PDA. “ _ I don’t blame you for being angry with me, but I didn’t do this to hurt you. There’s something down there that she wanted me to find. If I can find that, then maybe I can locate her too. _ ” 

Ryley held his breath, fingertips grazing the slim glass as though he might dry away her sorrow. The recording ended and Lyra disappeared, leaving him staring at his own stricken reflection. Droplets streaked over the flaking skin of his cheeks, the trickles breaking on the wrinkles below his eyes. Some dribbled over his dry lips. He tried to find the message, to see it again and discover where she’d sent it from, but he couldn’t locate the file anywhere. Uncontainable grief took over his heart, and he put his head in his hands. 

* * *

“Come on,” Cassidy shouted at the panelled door. “We don’t want to be late.” Shuffles and something toppling over sounded from the bedroom before the woman herself appeared. 

Lyra hoisted the hem of her gown to lower herself down the few steps unhindered, trailing waves of deep navy fabric. She kept her footsteps light so as not to tread too heavily on the carpet in her heels and rotated on the spot. “Will I do?” 

“If the entire city doesn’t fall in love with you, I’ll eat my suit,” Cassidy answered, helping her straighten her bodice. She looped her way around her, correcting each crinkle and fold. 

Lyra flushed and swished the skirt of her dress to acquaint herself with the fluid movement, the soft material caressing her bare ankles as it flitted about her feet. Following Cassidy into the shared living space, she dropped the hem back onto the floor. The skilled pilot looked more at home in her crimson pantsuit than anything she’d worn before. The lustre of the red complimented her form and let her natural confidence shine. “You look incredible, Cass.”

“I feel pretty badass in this,” she admitted, flicking at the tight curls of her afro and sticking her hands into her slack pockets. “I’ve had nothing fit me and suit me so well. That tailor Siris sent us to sure knows what he’s doing.” She glimpsed the two of them in the floor-length mirror. Strength and determination swelled in her soul. A conversation they’d had when Ryley was still on 4546B ghosted her memories. Lyra had fought so bravely for so long during her father’s disappearance. One night when they were walking to her apartment, she’d found herself unable to contain the devastation beating against the confines of her shattered spirit. Cassidy had clutched her close as she wept, made her a warm drink, and stayed with her until the early hours of the morning attending to her burdens. “We are warriors,” she’d told the grieving woman over cups of hot chocolate laden with pink and white marshmallows and sprinkles. “We have our hardships and we fight our fights. Let yourself be sad. Give yourself time to charge up your courage again and go back out there stronger than before. Might not seem like it right now, but you can do it. I know you can.” 

Hurried footsteps crossed the carpet, and Samuel dashed into the circle of sofas, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “We’re here,” he panted. “We’re not late, are we?”

“Siris hasn’t arrived yet, so you’re fine,” Cassidy assured him. She held his arms to keep him still so she could take in his outfit. He’d opted for a tuxedo with a loose navy bow around the collar and a deep blue velvet blazer, coupled with slim fit dark trousers. 

Hunter strutted in and leaned his hip against the furthest seat. The doctor stood proudly in his casual suit, a grey waistcoat over the off-white shirt and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’d slicked back the usually wispy tendrils of his hair and secured them into a small topknot at the base of his skull. 

“Look at you both,” Lyra enthused, brushing her thumbs along the bow around Samuel’s collar. She inhaled and urged the nibbling guilt down, back into the gloomy recess where it belonged. “I adore you all so much,” she expressed, lashes wet. “I am so grateful for the sacrifices you have made for me, and I only hope I can make sure it was worth it.” 

“It already is,” Cassidy insisted, swiping the handkerchief out of her top pocket and dabbing Lyra’s cheeks. “We’ll sort out this mess, we’ll save your mother, and if we can find other ways of sticking it to Alterra along the way, then we will. This has been a long time coming.” She wrapped the thin fabric back up and pressed it neatly into its snug home again, preening the corner so it stood up straight. “If Astrid hadn’t gone missing, it would have been something else that tipped one of us over the edge. They say all it takes is one spark to ignite a revolution, right? Well, perhaps this is it. Maybe us taking this risk sets off something bigger?” The pilot wheeled around and perched herself on the curved sofa. “I’m not saying this to put more pressure on us, but there is a real possibility that others will hear of what we’ve done and gain inspiration from it. Not that that’s a bad thing, but we need to acknowledge we may have kindled something we didn’t intend.” 

“You’re right,” Lyra murmured. The daunting realisation lifted like a sunrise, revealing to her what her forced distractions had hidden. “Someone will have noticed our absence.”

“We shouldn’t worry about it tonight,” Hunter said. He fetched his jacket from the sofa and curled it over the crook of his arm. “We can discuss it once the festivities are over.” 

Transport horns struck the air and Lyra drifted over to the windows, scouring the road below their apartment block. “They’re here.”

Cassidy clasped hold of the other woman’s hands and sent them both running towards the door, whooshing past Hunter and Samuel in a swirl of fabric and floral perfume. “Get those feet moving, boys,” the pilot called over her shoulder. “It’s party time!” 


	11. Festival of the Sea Emperor

Serene, melodic notes floated through the throng of tailored suits and satin gowns, the babble of the festival goers mingling with the chords of the orchestra. Spiralling stone criss-crossed above their heads, pocked with ripe sapphire opals. Controlled water cascaded in rolling layers around the venue, arresting the illuminated flora dappled on the rocks. Streaks of natural blue and green burst through the waterfalls like auroral veins, rippling their shades and arriving in the silver pools below in a spray of foam and bubbles. Sturdy pearly trunks dug their roots into the circles of dirt about the slim waterways, sprouting umbrellas of white branches and vivid purple leaves. Many of the attendees took turns tying ribbons to them, attaching their well-wishes to the long-gone kings and queens of the sea.

Lyra pushed herself onto her tiptoes to tie the golden piece of silk Deema has presented her with to one of the lower arms of the tallest tree. Eyes bore into her. Material rustled and shoes clicked against the mosaic. The orchestra continued to play, but few were paying attention to them.

Her fingers curled around the ribbon, and she teased the looped ends through the knot. The crowd cheered and the Prime Oracle led her to the semi-circle of seats beneath the arched canopy of branches. Her friends awaited her in matching chairs of their own. The people of the metropolis approached one by one, offering them iridescent flowers and tokens in return for blessings from the oracles. They knelt with devotion and admiration, and Lyra listened closely to each one, thanking them for their presents and asking them questions about their professions and their lives.

“Many people are not accustomed to being asked about themselves,” Deema explained, waving for the next citizen to approach.

“I’m sorry,” Lyra said. “I hope I didn’t offend anybody.”

“Offend anybody? My dear, they appreciate you now more than they ever did.” Deema rested her hand on the woman’s arm to assure her she’d done nothing wrong.

A little girl tottered down the carpeted path, a trembling, amethyst-petalled flower gripped tight in her tiny fists. The bloom was almost as big as her head and rocked on its thin stalk. As she reached the chair occupied by the curious woman with their queen’s soul in her heart, she shuffled her feet.

Lyra got up and parked herself down on the patchwork stones to chat to her. “Hello there, little one,” she said, trying not to frighten her any more than she already was. “What’s your name?”

“Tahla, Your Wonderfulness,” the girl replied, jabbing the fair strands of her braided hair back into place.

“This is a beautiful flower, Tahla. Did you choose it yourself?”

The child nodded, a pinch of pride colouring her cheeks. “Mama let me pick it. She told me it had to be special.”

“It is the loveliest flower I’ve ever seen. Thank you.” Lyra accepted the gift and boosted herself back up onto her chair. “The Prime Oracle wishes to make me a magnificent crown with all the flowers I get tonight. Would you like me to ask her to put yours at the front?”

“You can do that?” Tahla’s innocent eyes widened. She bounced on her little legs at the prospect of her present, the gift she and her mother had spent hours choosing, occupying pride of place on the special headdress.

Lyra made a show of handing Deema the bloom with care and delicacy. “Prime Oracle. May I request that you put this flower on the front of my crown?”

“As you wish,” she replied, inspecting the petals and nodding in approval to the small girl. “It will look splendid.”

The oracles ushered the child away to receive her blessing.

“I dare say you’ve just inspired her,” Deema commented, gathering a bundle of flowers from the table between them and weaving the stalks together around a silver circlet.

Lyra brushed the skirt of her dress and prepared herself for the next well-wisher, all but jumping out of her skin when Siris and the oracle guards drove forwards. Spears swirled in the air, anticipating the order to strike.

“Come no further,” Siris warned.

Lyra gestured for her friends to remain seated and strode towards commotion to see for herself what had riled their protectors.

“We do not wish you any harm,” Annis said. “All we want is to offer a gift, and then we will be on our way.” She held her hands out to put as much distance between herself and the sharp weaponry as possible. Mella didn’t seem to have the same concern.

“Let them through,” Lyra instructed. Mutterings emerged from the observing crowd, and she traded a brief assuring glance with Siris.

The loyal guards lowered their spears and stood back to permit Annis and Mella through their ranks. Siris kept his hardened stare on them, standing by for the slightest hint of ill intent.

“You and your friends look marvellous,” Annis said, inclining her head to the three humans seated behind Lyra. “I hope you’re all enjoying the festivities.”

“The citizens of your city have welcomed us with warmth and kindness,” Lyra told her. “We feel honoured to be here. It would be difficult not to enjoy it.”

The cordial councillor appeared to want to say something, to speak on her own terms, but her hesitation cost her the moment of bravery. After a nudge in the side from Mella, she withdrew a shell from her pocket, presenting it to the guest of honour. “The pearl inside is rare. We’d like you to have this one as an apology for our behaviour towards you when we first met.”

Annis had nothing to apologise for in Lyra’s mind, but she appreciated the sentiment. She allowed an oracle to take the rainbow-speckled shell, and upon returning to her visitors, extended a hand out to each of them. Annis was keen to accept the gesture, but Mella held back. "I don’t like the situation any more than you do,” she said. “We can’t alter the past, but we can work through this together. I understand your dislike of me, but surely harbouring hatred will only hurt those you’re trying to protect.”

“You understand nothing,” Mella spat. “Do you think that some pathetic words will sway me? You stole the power of our queen and I will never forgive you for that. Your kind are greedy. You strive for more and take it from whatever you can.” Her rigid form tightened further before she took her leave. She shoved past those waiting to meet the thief and disappeared amongst flowers and confusion.

“I’m sorry,” Annis whispered, all too aware of the attention Mella had forced upon her. “Should you ever require help, please do not be afraid to ask.”

Voices clamoured at the shocking spectacle, and Lyra signalled for the oracle arranging the presents to join her. “Archseer Dione, will you grant Councillor Annis your blessings?”

Deema rose to meet her on her way back. “Perhaps we should take a break,” the head of the sect suggested. She spoke with her nephew in their own language, instructions darting between them before the pair went their separate ways.

“We have the honour of beginning the first dance. Come with me,” Siris instructed, leading the four visitors away from the cluster of citizens and towards the circular dancefloor. He paired himself with Lyra as his aunt had advised, Hunter with Samuel, and Cassidy with an oracle guard called Marna. The orchestra began.

After the success of the opening dance, the night progressed with no other hindrances. Mella’s act of hostility became drowned in the excitement, but her stinging words hung over Lyra.

_ Pathetic. _

Lyra beamed and talked to as many people as she could, laughing openly and revelling in their company.

_ Stole. _

More scrambled to speak with her, from store owners eager to impart their stories to politicians who delighted in conversing with a foreign being. As one conversation ended, another began. A chain of generational tales and boasts of wealth locked themselves between her ears.

_ Greedy. _

She danced, learned names, accepted gifts, offered gentle words, sampled delicacies, passed from person to person, and grinned until her face ached.

Siris kept guard all the while, attending to her as she tirelessly worked the room until he could see the exhaustion straining in her graciousness. He retracted his spear and placed it onto his belt, whisking her to the dancefloor again as the orchestra’s music slowed. “I’m sure they won’t mind waiting a few minutes,” he said, swaying their bodies in time with the meandering notes.

“Thank you. Any more and I think I might drop.” Lyra trailed her fingers along his shoulder, her other hand finding his chest. His heartbeats nuzzled against her palm.

“I can find you somewhere to sit down if you need to,” Siris offered.

“I’m happy here,” she said, twirling under his arm in sync with the other dancers. By the refreshments table, Hunter and Cassidy guzzled down a frothy mix. The pair clung to each other and made kissing gestures at her and her dance partner before blundering into a fit of hilarity. 

“I think they’ve had too much Bulbo wine,” Siris chuckled.

Lyra searched the party for Samuel and found him conversing with an ambassador and his colleague. His eyes wandered over to the dancers and caught hers. The tips of his lips lifted to grant the brightest parts of his nature a chance to see the sun. The quietly contented soul she’d befriended at the academy and grown to cherish had come so far over the years since their schooling days. To witness his confidence and enjoyment after everything they’d been through gave her hope that despite his understandable doubts and worries, he’d be all right.

* * *

A narrow cascade of light slid through the doorway, muffled giggles and scuffling feet disturbing the lull that occupied the apartment while the residents were away.

Lyra steadied Cassidy with an arm around her middle, switching on the lamps as she passed them. The pilot murmured something to her and snickered, reaching out to the sofa and toppling onto the soft furnishings.

“No, no, what I’m saying is that…” Hunter stumbled in and seized the sideboard, wobbling and, by some miracle, remaining on his feet. “Who put that snake on the floor? That’s a stupid thing to leave lying around.”

“On that note, I’m going to bed,” Samuel said, cheeks flushed with a night of fascinating conversation. He saluted to his friends and bounced up the steps to his room.

Snores emanated from the sofa. Lyra grabbed a few extra pillows and blankets from the storage cubicle to prop the sleeping woman up and keep her warm. In the kitchen, she filled two glasses of water. By the time she returned, Hunter had cuddled himself up on the carpet by Cassidy, venturing through the kingdom of dreams. 

She left the refreshments on the table and changed out of her dress and heels, contemplating sleep, but it wouldn’t come. No matter how long she spent forcing away the shroud of whisperings circulating her brain, rest remained out of reach.

With a grunt, she thrust back the sheets and crept down the steps leading up to her bedroom. Hunter and Cassidy hadn’t moved, both blissfully unaware of her presence. She checked on them before she covered her shoulders with her coat and slipped out of the apartment, closing the door inch by inch and wincing at each squeak.

Outside, the streets relaxed with the citizens. Lyra could almost hear them breathing out in relief at the respite from hurried shoppers and festival organisers arguing over decorations and itineraries. Over the past month, her exploring had introduced a plethora of natural beauty spots, each one an elegant corner of this forsaken planet that remained untouched by Alterra.

She crossed the bridge she and her friends had taken upon arrival in the city, and encouraged the muscles in her legs to get her up the steep steps. She strolled by tunnel they’d wandered through and followed the gravel pathway heading to the loftier levels. 

An arched aisle opened onto a spacious cavern, part of the facing wall broken. The shields undulated down the chasm, but allowed the reflected light from outside to pass through, leaking around the supple, familiar form at the barrier.

A hulking sea creature slithered by, roaring into the night and disrupting the placid reflections. Lyra neared the window into the ocean and refused to blink in case the spectacle disappeared. Orange streaks clashed with crystalline blue, sweeping the length of the tail, and lit up the monster’s eyes. It searched for something, head swinging and body wriggling after it. Divers claimed to have seen magnificent beasts such as this, but nobody believed them. And here she was, in an alien city, with alien life forms, peering at alien waters, at an animal that could easily fuel nightmares. 

“I never thought I’d see a Ghost Leviathan,” she said, reaching the safety railing and marvelling at the spectacle just a few feet from her.

“You get used to seeing them when you’ve been here long enough,” Siris replied. “You grow accustomed to a lot of things.” The tail of the beast struck the shields as it slunk away in a bioluminescent blur. “Good to know that’s working properly,” he mumbled to himself. He leaned over the ledge, his dishevelled braid slipping from his back to dangle over his right shoulder. “I thought you’d be resting.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Is there anything I can help you with in the meantime?”

Lyra considered the man, strong in his form and kind in his hearts. His presence soothed her. She’d assumed it was the Sea Emperor’s influence. After all, these were her protectors, and it was only logical for her to gain a sense of security from him. But for a while now it had prickled in her own spirit. Her own heart. “What are personal relationships like here?” she asked. “Do certain emotions play a part in how you connect with people?”

“You mean familial relations?”

“Sort of. I suppose.”

Siris admired the flush of pink colouring her cheekbones and the tip of her nose. “If you’re referring to what your people call love, then yes, we have something similar. We too experience sentiments we cannot explain with rationality or logic. Why do you ask?”

Lyra contemplated the truth for a moment, verging towards speaking again before letting the words die in a hesitant breath. “Ignore me. Cassidy and Hunter got in my head.”

The warrior guard, in a haze of courage, slid his hand a little closer to hers. Tentative fingers ghosted the metal railing and curled. Hesitant. Slow. He observed his movements and sensed out Lyra’s reaction. She didn’t recoil at the touch of his fingertips, nor even appear surprised. She remained still but for the reply of her own fingers accepting his.

A bulbous creature landed in front of the shielded window, fragments of stone and dirt caught up in a shower of bubbles. Each eye moved in sync with the others, coasting over the two in the cavern. The transparent head pulsated as the animal fought for stability, legs thumping up and down.

Lyra screamed and clutched hold of Siris.

His chest shook as he guffawed at her yelp, and he readjusted the coat back over her shoulders. “Nothing can get us in here,” he said, holding onto her. “We’re perfectly safe.”

* * *

Whispers of golden streaks wound around the decaying bones, flourishing through rounded rib cages and crumbling cartilage. Dapples of enzyme trailed from the fish, courses of life living and dying in their captivity. Perhaps some creatures were so tiny they didn’t realise they were in a cage? Maybe some never saw the other side of the aquarium and thought their world so big?

Flashes of memory tormented Lyra as she waded towards the surface. Someone waited for her. Someone important. A familiar face appeared at the entrance to the containment. An arm beckoned her. She’d almost made it to the platform suspended in the water. Just a little more. Her body convulsed and no matter how hard she kicked, she couldn’t move. A cold sliver wriggled up her ankle, and with swift, deliberate tugs, she descended unwillingly again. “Dad!” she tried to scream. “Help! Please!”

Further and further the forces of the world wrenched her down, snaking around her torso and her neck. Frightened bubbles darted from her lips and her hands flew wildly over her collar. Her core shuddered. Twisted. Roared. And with a strenuous shout, the spirit of the Sea Emperor within her fragile form burst loose.

Lyra jarred from her slumber with a wheeze, and tightened her grasp on the pillow she’d clung to in the night. The flickers of her dream dissipated in clouds of colour. She stretched out her limbs and sat up. Her eyes adjusted to the haze of her room, the cabinets, and surfaces, and fabric of the curtains drab in the shadows.

With a subdued groan, she slid from the high bed and traipsed across the carpet, the thick fibres morning fresh against the soles of her feet. She didn’t know what time it was or how long she’d slept, but the grogginess soon lifted, leaving behind the view of her father waiting for her just metres away. 

She clicked the light switch by the door and headed towards her dressing table, startling at the rings coming from her PDA and knocking her hip against the low shelves. She cursed under her breath. Her jaw tensed as she reached for the slab of glass resting on her bed. Fingertips hovered over the answer button. The same slimy arms that had gripped her in her dream slithered around her wrist. Before they could pull, she lowered her hand.

“ _ Lyra? Thank the stars I got through. I’ve been trying to contact you for weeks. Are you all right? _ ”

A sickly knot pulsated in her throat. She screwed her eyes shut as though the darkness would take away the voice and delay the moment she expected would come one day.

“ _ Please, talk to me, little blossom. _ ”

“I’m okay,” the young Robinson said. Samuel’s override protocols pinged in the background, the three curved lines in the screen’s corner igniting one by one. 

“ _ Where are you? I’ll get a ship to pick you up. _ ”

“No.” The word shot from her mouth like a bullet, and she dreaded to think who it might hit. “I can’t come home.” Lyra breathed through each syllable rasping through her throat. She perched on the edge of her bed, nails sinking into her palms, and told him everything, from freeing Marguerit to the spirit of the creature in the aquarium. The only thing she left unspoken was her duty to the planet. 

“ _ We can work something out, _ ” Ryley pleaded. “ _ Do you think I’d let anybody harm you? _ ”

“That’s what frightens me. I know you’ll always protect me, but in doing that, what would happen to you? What’s already happening to you because of me?” The lull between them spoke of what her father was already enduring. Alterra would not go easy on him, shield against the persistent cameras and unwanted press attention or not. “I can’t undo this, but I can still find mum and get her back safely.” She brought the PDA onto her lap, wishing that she could speak to him in person, one last time, to say a proper goodbye. The Sea Emperor Leviathan robbed her of that, and many other things too. “I’m sorry for everything. I love you, dad, and one day I wi-”

The bars on the top banner went out. A tiny cross flashed over the call screen and three fervent beeps sounded through the speakers. Signal lost. 

Lyra curled in on herself, letting the PDA fall onto the floor. Her chest heaved and caved in, her tremulous breaths shuddering against her rib cage. She wanted to scream and curse the creature who’d done this to her family, but nothing came out. The wails cowered in her heart, frightened to so much as take a peek at the outside world, because she knew, deep down, her actions had led to this. Her fault. Her choice. Instead, her silenced anguish leaked down her cheeks and dripped wet patches on her t-shirt.

A scrape sounded against her door before it squeaked open. Cassidy wandered in and rubbed at her head, her shoulders stooped and her back bent. “Are there are any painkillers anywhere?” she asked, squinting at the light and cringing like a vampire caught in the sun. “I tried looking in the cabinets but I couldn’t…” The curled form on the bed shuddered and she rushed to the weeping woman, grasping her into a comforting embrace. She murmured gentle hushes as she stroked her hair, letting her spill her emotions. “What happened?”

“I got a-” Lyra choked back spit and bile, her forehead dappled with beads of sweat. “Got a phone call from my dad. I told him everything. And that I can’t go home.” A cry erupted, and she clamped her hand over her mouth.

“We’re doing this for a reason,” Cassidy said as she rocked her. “It’s difficult now, but it will all come right. I’m sure of it.”


	12. Time to Go

“I think it’s time we left. We won’t get anywhere tucked away like this.” Lyra tapped at her PDA as she paced and examined the incoming data. “The Sea Emperor Leviathan said a woman in the cold needs help. My guess is she means Robin Ayou.” She offered the device to the three huddled on the sofa and allowed Hunter to take it. Samuel and Cassidy leaned towards him. “I found this while searching the Alterra reports. With a shield up over the planet, now is the best time to make our move. And check out where the signal came from.”

“Sector Zero,” Cassidy said. “What would anybody be doing out there?”

“Didn’t they end all operations in that area?” Samuel mused.

“That’s what I thought.” Lyra halted in her strides and leaned over to swipe across the screen. She sifted the information back and forth a few times before she found what she wanted to show them. “The last expedition there involved Robin’s sister. All I could get from the database was a death certificate and a notice to all the researchers in the area to close the bases. The records say Robin left her post months ago and well… we’ve all heard the stories of what she did. It has to be her. There’s nobody else in that sector, and no other arctic biomes on the planet.”

“Have you tried asking the Sea Emperor about this?” Samuel asked. 

Lyra scoffed. “I’ve attempted to ask her many things, but she isn’t responding. I’m not sure if she can’t or won’t, but either way, I don’t need her help.”

Hunter slumped back against the cushions with a huff, creases spreading across his forehead. “Assuming you’re right and Robin is the one we have to find, how are we supposed to get there? We have no ship, no access to any Architect arches without Marguerit, and we sure as hell can’t swim there.”

“I’ve got it sorted,” Lyra said, flicking away his comment. She strode to the other end of the coffee table and whirled around to stroll back again, creating a trail for herself across the carpet. 

Cassidy leveraged herself up from the sofa and took Lyra’s hands to interrupt her fervent wandering. “If you’re not sure about this, we can stay here. You are the one who chooses what you want to do, nobody else, especially not some ancient corpse. We’ll support you as much as we can, but this has to be your decision.”

“I have to do something.”

“No, you don’t. We came down here to rescue your mother. You owe that creature in your head nothing. If you want to go find Astrid, we’ll do that. If you want to leave this planet and never look back, we will get a ship and I’ll fly us away from here quicker than you can blink.”

Lyra swallowed. For a moment, she envisioned escaping 4546B and Alterra. Of a life elsewhere, somewhere peaceful and protected. Green fields. Townhouses. Terrible television shows that everyone loved to hate. Sitting in a cafe in the dawning spring with her friends, discussing nothing of importance over steaming coffee and cake. But the distant, icy arms from the dream aquarium tangled themselves around her throat and squeezed, tethering her soul to her destiny.  _ This is your home now _ , they reminded her.  _ No escape. Not for you. _

“What if Robin has seen my mum and knows where she is?” she said. “We found no sign of her in the lava facility, and we’ve got nothing else to go off. It’s a longshot, I’m aware of that, but Robin might have some information, or we may discover something along the way. We are making no progress by staying here.”

Cassidy puffed up her chest, but deflated again a moment later. “As long as you’re sure this is what you want to do.”

“It is,” Lyra assured her, slipping her PDA from Hunter’s grasp. “I’m going to find Robin, and I’m going to find my mum. Once she is safe, then we can decide what to do next.”

* * *

Deema’s powdered plimsolls shuffled across the fractured stone and down the steps into the lower levels of the temple. Wrinkled fingers worked at the digital keys and the doors permitted her entry. Inside the workshop, over-sized protective suits bent metal and sparks leaped from machinery, showering the floor with sparkles. They puttered out just as swiftly as they’d jumped, swept aside in the hubbub and noise.

“I wish someone had told me you were here,” the Prime Oracle said as she came to the dark-haired woman admiring the engineers’ handiwork. “I’d have come down here sooner.”

“Not to worry,” Lyra replied, narrowly avoiding a spray of water and the resulting steam as the heated metal on the workbench beside her whistled. “I won’t be staying long.”

“Is everything to your satisfaction?”

Lyra lifted her gaze to the apparatus above her head where the completed parts of her vehicle hung, awaiting their finishing flourishes. Her lips parted, and awe and delight waltzed in the jade of her eyes. This is the ship that would transport her to Robin, to her mother, and beyond. The fabled horse all heroes rode into peril to save the kingdom, slay a monster, and rescue royalty from a tower. Or so the stories her father read to her as a child suggested. “Your engineers are skilled. I couldn’t have hoped for better.”

“We take pride in our work here,” the oracle said. “If a project should take longer than expected, it is more beneficial to wait for excellence than to force its hand.”

“Something Alterra should learn,” Lyra mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She softened her expression when the familiar pressure pulsed against her temples and hammered at her skull.

Deema exhaled a brief hum and trod in front of the smaller woman, invading her view of the machines above. She swayed her head until Lyra got the hint and concentrated on her instead of the surrounding excitement. A throaty laugh shook through her crinkled lips, and the wrinkles by her eyes deepened. “Dear girl,” she soothed, lifting her twig-thin fingers and cupping her cheeks. She fixed a wandering strand of raven black hair back behind her ear. “Do you remember what I said about your powers? You shape them, not the other way around. Be wary of the resentment you hold on to. Your gifts are listening.”

“If they help me bring down Alterra, the more fury I feel the better, right?”

“You believe that bringing them down will solve all of our problems?”

“No, but they are an enormous threat and I don’t know what else to do to get rid of them.” Lyra wriggled her fingers a couple of time to give herself something to focus on other than the nagging sense that she was wrong to pursue the path of Alterra’s destruction. “The longer we leave them to profit from the planet, the more life here suffers.”

“Have you considered all the risks involved?” Deema probed, taking Lyra’s silence as her answer. “I’m not saying this to dissuade you from your decision, but I have much experience in the evils of the world. I have seen our enemies toppled and bigger adversaries rise in their place. Use my experiences and questioning as a guide, not a criticism of your plans.” The doors swept open, and she stood to her full height, waving over the two new arrivals hastening into the workshop. “I wondered when you’d both get here. Were you planning on leaving us here all day?”

“Not at all.” Siris bowed low. The guard accompanying him bent her head first to the Prime Oracle, and then to their guest.

“This is Krissa,” Deema said. “She and my nephew will accompany you on your continued journey to ensure your safety and that of your friends. They know the planet well, and shall prove an asset, I’m sure.”

“Aren’t they needed here?” Lyra asked. “I don’t want to take anything or anyone you need.”

“The city can spare two warriors,” Deema assured her. Her smile dropped, and she sidled past the trio to the workers behind them, brandishing her hand towards a piece of glass and shaking her head. Krissa attended to her superior, her boots tapping rapidly against the stone.

“It seems you must put up with me for a little while longer,” Siris said. 

Lyra peered up at him, and despite the jestful tone, she could detect the slight hint of self doubt. “Did Deema give you a choice, or did she tell you to come with me?” 

“She asked for volunteers and picked myself and Krissa from those who stepped forward.” He scratched at his arm. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you.”

“Why would I mind?” Lyra said. “You are a seasoned warrior, with a sharp intuition and quick reflexes… And I also didn’t want to say goodbye to you.” 

Siris shuffled his feet, fighting back the tug of his lips. “I also d-”. A deliberate cough from his aunt whipped the rest of his response away. 

“Are you two going to spend all day chatting?” Deema called to them. 

Lyra clocked the amused expression adorning Siris’s feature and resisted the rising chuckle. She offered him a brief shrug and crammed her hands into her pockets. “Our duty calls,” she declared, drifting towards the Prime Oracle and leaving him to follow in tow.

* * *

“Would you look at that?” Hunter said, rotating on his heels. Cream metal panelling reflected the yellow strips of light inlaid into the curved of the ceiling, streams of blurred gold trickling towards the plush seating below. Slim screens attached to the far wall displayed the ship’s diagnostics and scoured the local area, declaring their findings like a proud messenger. Overhead lockers lined the longest edges, and he clicked one open to snoop at the contents.

Cassidy dashed past him and into the cockpit. She grazed her hands over the controls. “Oh, come to mama, you beauties!” she all but squealed and slid into the pilot seat, swivelling around the individual consoles.

Lyra chuckled under her breath and circulated their primary hub of operations, pausing by the round table taking centre place. Five separate currents of light grew from the projector in the middle and threaded through a globe. A singular point marked where they were, and she trailed the expanse of water they were to cross to get to Sector Zero.

“Cassidy was checking over the plans last night,” Samuel said, sticking his hands behind his back as he studied the digital planet. The blue rays shimmered over his glasses. “She thinks we should be able to reach Delta Island in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s better than the months we first thought.” Swiping along the dials on the outer rim of the surface, Lyra adjusted the tilt of the map. The Alterra logo the cartographers had used to identify the Aurora slithered towards her. Her father’s frantic pleas teemed in her thoughts.  _ Come home, little blossom. Where you belong. Where you’re loved. _

She moved the globe again so that triangle of her former employers couldn’t torment her, noting the shuffle of Samuel’s feet against the grated flooring. “Something on your mind?” she coaxed, pushing herself up onto the side of the desk and swinging her legs.

“I don’t want to leave,” Samuel replied, winding his arms around his chest as though a chill was biting at him. “Nobody expected anything of me here. Nobody looked at me like I was some meek mouse, or judged me, or pitied me for my anxieties. Strangers spoke to me because they valued what I had to say and gave me the time I needed to say it. For the first time outside our friendship, I was an equal.” He leaned back against the table and stared at his boots. “There are so many opportunities for me here.”

“You can stay if you like. You have no obligation to come with us.”

“And abandon you? No way.”

Lyra wriggled towards him and lay her head on his shoulder. “We’ll return as soon as we’re done. I’ll appreciate your company.”

“You’re going to stay here too?”

“Got nowhere else to go.” She let out a short, breathy laugh as she sat back up and idly rubbed her hands in time with her swaying legs.

“Have you seen these engines?” Cassidy said, jabbing a thumb at the cockpit as she returned to her friends.

“Everything is as you specified, Miss Howard,” Deema assured her, treading over the lip of the side entrance with Krissa and Siris. “I trust it is to your high standard.”

“She is perfection,” the gleeful pilot replied. “I couldn’t have done better myself.”

Deema beamed. “You’ll find changes of clothing in each of your lockers, along with other essentials to make sure you are safe and warm.”

“Humans are so fragile,” Krissa jested, nudging Hunter’s arm. The doctor threw her a scowl and massaged his stinging bicep.

“Siris will keep me updated with your journey,” the Prime Oracle continued after shooting an unimpressed glance at the young warden. “We have guards on standby should you run into any trouble.”

“Thank you for everything,” Lyra said. She stepped forward and embraced the hospitable woman. “I’ll miss you.”

“Come now, no use in all that. I’ll be here should you wish to return.” Deema patted her back and gave each of her esteemed visitors a farewell bow before departing the craft. The door fastened shut behind her with a series of whooshes and clicks.

“Well, then.” Cassidy clapped and squashed the hushed hum between her palms. “Everyone strap yourselves in, and I’ll get us moving.”

Lyra joined her in the frontal cabin and buckled herself into the copilot’s chair, tightening each belt over her shoulders. Out of the window, she spotted the cavern she and Siris had met in after the Sea Emperor’s festival. Beyond, the wide ocean awaited her, and she longed to go back to that cave, that moment of safety and surety.

“You ready?” Cassidy asked, disengaging the craft from the walkway suctioned to the hull and activating each engine.

Lyra barred out the warmth of that night and fixed her eyes on the rolling expanse of creature-infested waters before her. “Onwards, Captain Howard.”


	13. Misfire

** TW: ** ** There are quite heavy mentions of blood, severe injury and surgery within this chapter.  **

“The map says the base should be up there,” Lyra said, craning her neck to see if she could glimpse the Alterra building on top of the cliffs. 

“Are you sure?” Samuel asked. He trod backwards, inches of sky revealing themselves before he bumped his back against a tall cluster of stones. 

Lyra murmured to herself as she side-stepped around the base of the mountain. The coastal wind yanked at her fleece-lined coat, and she popped together a few more buttons. Clouds gathered but delayed in unleashing their fury to observe the life forms shivering on the dark sands, and fog glistened on the upper peaks, drooping wearily towards them. “The map says it’s still there.” 

“Doesn’t mean there will be anything of use,” Hunter said. “Could just be an empty building for all we know.” 

“Or there could be resources and supplies.” Lyra squinted at the vessel peeking out of the water behind them and the pilot on the roof repairing a few minor scrapes. “How is it looking, Cass?” 

“Not as bad as I thought,” Cassidy answered, lifting her voice over the whistling wind. “Shouldn’t be too much longer. I don’t want to hang about. Those cryptosuchus do not look like they appreciate visitors.”

Lyra left her to it and trekked across the dark grains, keeping the rocky inclines to her right. Her protective boots crunched into the powder and sludged snow underfoot. When she’d visited Sector Zero as a child, she’d never got as far as Delta Island, but she recalled seeing the radio tower from her bedroom window. A tiny yellow light had spotted her watching and sparkled at her, and she’d counted each blink until she’d fallen asleep. 

A warbled chirp lilted towards her and mingled with the rush of the tide. Around the corner, she found a huddle of Pengwings. The infants toddled in the centre of their ranks, trying to find the most warmth against their parents’ round bellies as they waddled together. 

“You are the most adorable little creatures ever,” Lyra whispered as she lowered herself down. Some noticed her and trilled, slapping their flippers against their flubber. Others ambled from the shore and united with their fellows, chirruping in greeting and shaking the wet from their light coats.

Lyra plonked down on the sand and mimicked the Pengwings’ warbles, holding back a giggle of delight when one returned the call. Feet ground at the dirt behind her, and she angled round, hoping to see more of them. Water lapped at empty sands, bubbles fizzled in the gaps between the pebbles, and crackling teemed in her ears like the remnants of lightening dying out after a heavy strike. 

The Pengwings continued to communicate, and she pushed up from her powdery seat. Something crackled again, closer. The crinkle flurried about her head, and as she dragged her foot backwards, a force against her chest propelled her down. A section of air undulated before her, and a cloaked, humanoid figure formed within it, tentacles waving behind them and their fist tightening around a short, curved blade. 

She scrambled to her feet and strained her breathing against the pain quivering in her left side. She rubbed at the sore spot and prickles of wet smeared against her palm. Red tendrils trickled through her fingers in racing drops. 

Her body swayed, and her head lolled up, the thumping in her chest reverberating through her frame. The shrouded figure came for her anew, their form vanishing before they reached her. She lurched out of the way and swung out at thin air with a grunt, yelping out a cry for help. Her vision flickered between a hazing blur and her gifted sight. The grey of the mountains blended with the snow, and wisps of red and gold accumulated over the breach in her waist. She wrangled with the dizzying fluctuations until she permitted the Sea Emperor’s influence full reign. The attacker’s aura gleamed like flames. He dashed with speed and agility across the sand, and she surged towards him. She kicked at his shin and thrust her fist into the side of his skull before he could strike again, narrowly missing a second jab of the knife. He staggered up and careened into a cavern by the Pengwings. Her powers faltered and returned her to the misty haze. 

Samuel skidded around the corner first. He caught hold of her as she faltered, searching for the offending beast or shard that had harmed her. “What happened?”

“Assassin,” Lyra wheezed, squeezing her eyes shut against the searing agony. “Don’t know… where… where he is…” 

“It’s okay. He’s not here now.” 

“He has a… something… can’t see him…” 

Samuel lifted his head at the fervent crunching. 

Krissa bolted towards them and teetered to a halt, the others not far behind. “Stay back,” she warned, holding an arm out to Hunter and Cassidy before they could cross into the clearing. She raised her gun, and her keen eyes tracked the area around Samuel and Lyra. “Can you see that?” she said discreetly to her fellow guard. 

Siris shook his head but slipped the charged spear from his belt in preparation.

The weapon in Krissa’s grasp followed the unusual shift of air. Her finger pressed against the trigger to charge the ammunition. Notch by notch, it filled the power bar. Two. Three. She tracked the ripples and released the button. 

The assassin glinted into being long enough for the shot to approach, for him to make eye contact with her, before he vanished, leaving the discharge to reach another mark. 

Lyra’s grasp tightened around Samuel as he slumped onto her, steadily sinking to the ground with him. His arms fell limp against her and his forehead rested against her shoulder. Smoke hissed from his chest. Whirls of darkened shades approached her, and their noise muffled in her ears. Static buzzing wiped away any words until her own rapid breaths brought her back. A pressure burned against her side and she startled before Cassidy soothed her, holding a bundle of gauze to her wound. 

“He’s still got a pulse,” Hunter said, fingers at Samuel’s neck. The doctor ripped the first aid kit from his bicep and riffled through the contents. 

Lyra watched perplexed, her own injury aching and the cloud of crimson and gold tingling at the slim rift in her waist. She blinked a few times and dragged her powers from the depths of her heart to alter her view once more. Auras flew around her friends, Samuel’s weakening by the minute. One aura. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. She counted. Seven. 

With a creaking groan that rasped through her lips like a death rattle, she stammered to her feet. As she rose, she whipped Hunter’s gun from the magnetic clip on his hip and levelled it at Krissa, the faithful guard still frozen in place by her misfire. Siris made to act, but a swift aim at him quickly halted his steps before she directed it back at her intended target. “Don’t move,” she demanded. 

“Please think about what you’re doing,” Siris begged. “She didn’t mean to shoot Samuel.” 

“Shut up,” Lyra hissed. 

Cassidy dug her hands into the grit to get up. “Don’t do this, Lyra. Death begets death.” 

The armed woman kept the weapon fixed on the tall, alien woman. Her vision drifted, and she gritted her teeth. The trapezium display on the top of the gun flashed as the last segment charged. A moment of hesitation blazed across her mind before she drifted the barrel an inch to the right and let the electrical sphere within fly. 

Krissa tensed and clamped her eyes closed. The pop of the discharge surged past her ear. A heavy thud landed at her back and she scuffled forwards as something slapped against the heel of her boots. She regained her composure and stared at the fallen form of their foe, face down in the icy slush and sand. The last crackles of the shot dissipated into his skull. 

Siris crouched down to test the assassin’s vital signs and brought back his hood, revealing a pair of startled dark eyes and the lined markings of his people on his cheeks. 

“Samuel,” Lyra breathed. Her knees buckled and Cassidy aided her down. 

“He’s stable,” Hunter said, cradling the blond and stroking the grains from his fair strands. “Can’t say for how long. There’s some internal bleeding, but I don’t know if we have the right equipment to treat it.”

“We should get him back onto the ship,” Siris instructed, padding towards them through the increasing tumult of wind and sleet. “I’ve sent a distress signal. Help is on the way.”

* * *

Rushes of red mingled with the water as Hunter scrubbed at his hands to dislodge the speckles of crimson stuck in the lines of his palms. He scraped a few times until they relented and picked at the dried blood under his nails. The stained equipment lay strewn on the tray beside him, waiting for him to clean them. 

“How long do you think it will take him to recover?” Lyra asked, perched on the edge of the cushioned bench where Hunter had placed Samuel before operating. 

“At this point it would be useless speculating,” the doctor answered. He dried his hands on the towel by the sink and ran fresh water into the basin before placing the metal tools in to soak. “I stopped the internal bleeding and stitched up his lung, but he’s going to need deeper surgery than this. There’s still more damage, and even after further operations there’s no guarantee he’ll…” Hunter gripped the counter and hung his head, wiping at his nose and his eyes with the back of his arm. “If he makes it, there is always the risk of infection and recovery will not be pretty.” 

“We’ll be there for him,” Cassidy said from her seat by their injured friend’s bedside, one knee drawn up to her chest. “He would do the same for us.” 

“He already has,” Lyra murmured. 

Samuel’s breath grated in his throat, and Hunter adjusted the oxygen tube with a tender touch. Not that he’d be able to feel it. A dozen Rock Punchers could beat against the hull and Samuel would be oblivious to it. 

He collapsed down into the empty spot at his patient’s feet and hunched over, grinding his palms into his closed eyelids to relieve the exhaustion lingering within them.

“Rest,” Cassidy told him. “You spent over an hour operating, now get some sleep. We can keep watch.”

Hunter forced his eyes open and blinked. He declined with a sway of his head. “I want to be here with him.” 

“He won’t know if you went to lie down for a bit,” Lyra said. 

“I will.” The wearied physician slouched against the wall and rested back on the chilly metal, linking his fingers over his abdomen. “How’s your wound doing?” 

“Stings, but those stitches you put in should keep it together.” 

Siris rejoined them from the cockpit, entering the central hub as quietly as he could. “One of our transport ships on the outskirts got our message and is almost here. There are medics on board who will ensure Samuel is stable during the journey, and surgeons on standby for his arrival when they reach the city.” 

“I should go with him,” Hunter said. “He needs me.” 

“We also need you,” Siris pointed out. “If one of us gets hurt, we wouldn’t know how to treat it. You are the only medic we have with us. Samuel will get the best care. Our anatomy is not so different from yours, and our surgeons can deal with a wound like this.”

The doctor flicked his attention between his two conscious friends, a cascade of contradictory thoughts fighting in the battlefield of his mind until his concerns landed on Samuel. They hushed in an instant. “Swear to me they know what they’re doing and they’ll do all they can.”

“I swear it,” Siris promised. “I have suffered many injuries over the years, a few that medics feared would be the end of me. Yet here I am, thanks to their care and expertise.” 

Hunter swallowed, and with a forced exhale he agreed to remain with them for their foreseeable journey. 

Lyra squeezed his arm and got herself up, shifting so that the doctor and Cassidy could take her place beside Samuel. She traipsed uneasily and favoured her right leg, the pain in her side throbbing with each suggestion of pressure on her left. 

“I hope you are not in too much discomfort,” Siris said, steadying her.

“Hunter gave me some painkillers which are stopping the worst of it,” she replied, settling back against the round table. “Did Deema get your message?” 

“She’s taken full responsibility for the investigation, and she will plan an excuse for Samuel’s injury and premature return to keep things calm.” 

“And my theory?”

“My aunt agreed it was plausible, but she doesn’t want to accuse people hastily, not without evidence.” Siris pressed his fists onto the surface of the table and chewed at his lip. 

“But you agree with me, don’t you?” 

“I do,” the guard sighed. “For a while now, we’ve known of the council’s dabbling with stealth technologies. They kept it quiet, but we knew what they were doing. If it wasn’t them, it opens up a lot of questions.” He leaned towards her and looked at her as though she was about to fall apart, like one glance might shatter her into a million irreparable pieces. Delicately, he pulled her into his arms. “For a moment back there, I feared I’d lose you,” he confided into her hair, testing a gentle squeeze to ensure he wouldn’t trouble her wound with a tighter embrace. “You really had me thinking for you were going to shoot Krissa.” 

Lyra snorted out a short laugh. “I’m sorry.”

“You need not apologise. I understand you did what you had to do.” 

“How is she?”

Siris withdrew and dropped his gaze, a response hesitating on his tongue. “She’s blaming herself for what happened, but give her time and she’ll be okay.”

A low rumble agitated the waters outside, and Lyra jolted. As she hobbled to the window, she tried to detect any signs of life from the ocean beyond, but her gifts remained at her waist. They poked and weaved through the laceration, and wouldn’t redirect from their task. “What made that noise?” The boom rolled towards them again, this time closer. 

“It’ll be the transport ship,” Siris assured her after checking the radar scanners on the screen behind him. “They emit sounds at such frequencies to disperse any creatures in the area.” 

Lyra returned to Hunter and Cassidy, and crouched down by Samuel’s bedside to plant a tender kiss to his cheek. “You must go back to the city now, but we will join you the moment we’re done here,” she said, stroking his exposed arm. “And I know you, you’ll worry about us, but we’ll be okay. I promise. You just have to focus on getting better.” 

The vessel rocked as the transport craft suctioned over the doorway, locks clicking into place and securing the two vehicles together. 

“Be brave, Samuel,” Lyra whispered, rubbing tears from her eyelashes. “We’ll see you soon.” 

* * *

They spent most of the passage to the Glacial Basin in silence. Siris monitored their incoming messages and reported Samuel’s return journey, hoping that it would ease their worry, but his words of reassurance and optimism made little difference.

Hours passed, fading into the churned water left in their wake, until their smaller cave pods rose to the surface and locked onto the small dock awaiting them. 

Jagged glaciers ascended to the overcast sky and announced their scope through the mist. Icicles lined the snowier edges with spines of ice so sharp they could have impaled someone unfortunate enough to be passing beneath them as they fell. Frost Vase plants scattered their crimson shades and trembled in the bluster riding down from the higher ground. Fervent rushes whipped up the undisturbed snow in swirls of white and grey. 

“It’s just up here,” Lyra shouted from the head of the trudging travellers. She gripped the rim of her hood as the wind’s hands sought to pull it down. “I can see the door.” She pushed her legs into an unstable jog until at last she squeezed through the broken sliding doors. 

The dim cave offered them protection from the insistent gusts outside and welcomed them with a twinkle of navy blue speckled ice. A collapsed Alterran base lay tilted in a wide alcove, and the walkways leading to it twisted at all angles on their raised stilts. Two stairways gave access to the connecting paths, one contorted beyond use. A few remaining lights blinked around the exterior, the bulbs within them hissing like angry wasps with each desperate flutter. 

“Robin’s signal is coming from somewhere around here,” Lyra reported, tracking the lines on her PDA and shaking it when the signal glitched. With a huff, she stuck it back into her pocket and rubbed her hands to warm them. An icicle dropped from the ceiling and she lurched backwards, the spike bursting into fragments at her feet. The glassy crash echoed through the cavern. As it hit the floor, she sensed a fleeting murmur of life not too far away, pounding through the ice and rattling the foundations of the planet. 

“Careful,” Siris said, skimming a few of the splintered shards about with his foot. “This whole place looks like it’s about to collapse.”

“I’d rather take our chances in here than out there with that blizzard,” Cassidy said, wandering up the only remaining staircase and pausing by the rickety walkway. She tapped at it with the tip of her boot and retreated as a threatening creak reverberated through the metal. “Maybe not.” 

They stuck together as they explored the lower levels of the cave, riffling through the surviving crates and fishing out whatever they could carry back with them. Most of it had deteriorated under the strain of the environment, other parts crushed beyond use. 

“Hey, come look at this,” Hunter called, waving them over to a heap of scrap and smashed equipment. He hoisted at a pair of handlebars and wiggled out the body of a motorcycle, monitoring the blocks of ice above. Once the back wheels had slipped from the crushed clumps of old machinery, he swung it around. The digital screen fluctuated and eventually settled, and the gliding mechanics extended to keep the vehicle adrift. He swept the snow from the seat and scratched at the frost covering the glass. “It doesn’t seem to be in too bad a condition. If there are any others, we’ll find Robin in no time.” 

“No,” Lyra insisted. Four sets of eyes snapped to her. Goosebumps prickled up her arm and down the back of her neck, and dread squeezed around her heart. 

“Why?” Hunter asked. 

“There’s something close by, something big.” She forced each inhale and exhale to slow so that she could home in on the source of her terror. Ice churned and melted away, cracking in her ears. For a moment she swore the ground beneath her quivered like a warning shot. Her chest thumped, and the scalding pain in her side flared. Hunter abandoned the snowfox to offer her some stability. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s angry,” she said, imploring him with frightened eyes. “Whatever we do, we shouldn’t disturb it.” 


End file.
